Dead End
by MissUse
Summary: Zack goes missing after Brennan receives a mysterious call. The kidnapper begins leading her down a revealing path to find the truth about a case she had tried to put behind her. Can she figure out the truth in time to save Zack?
1. The Call

**This is my first Bones fanfiction inspired by the idea of getting Zack back into the show. Sorry that it starts right off like this, but I couldn't think of a better way to start it, so here it is. Hope you like it. This story takes place shortly after the episode where Zack is sent to the mental institution.  
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I was sitting in my living room at around 10:00 at night after a long day of studying a 6 year-old skeleton, staring at the floor when the call came. I looked as it blinked and rang beside me for a second before actually picking it up. "Hello?"

"Dr. Brennan," a male voice spoke and then continued before I could say anything, "Dr. Temperance Brennan. Pretty name. Not your real one, though."

I sat for a moment, wondering whether or not I had actually heard what had been said. "Um... who is this?" I asked. My mind immediately began thinking of people it could be. It wasn't Booth; his voice wasn't so rough. It wasn't Hodgins and it wasn't Goodman.

"We'll exchange information later. For now, I'm just going to set down the rules before we begin. One: you're not going to tell anyone about this conversation and two: you're going to do everything I ask you to. In return, you will get a reward for your good work. Now, you will know why I expect you to listen to these rules in about... 4 minutes."

"Wait, who is this?" I asked, sitting up in my seat. I listened to the background, but couldn't get anything from it. I then grabbed a recorder and turned it on.

"Wait for the news, Dr. Brennan and then we'll chat some more." With this, the man hung up.

I sat with the phone in my hand for a second, trying to decide what had just happened. I could tell from the voice that the man was in his thirties somewhere, but nothing else. I looked down at the phone and then began dialing a number. I jumped when the phone suddenly rang in my hand before I had finished dialing. "Hello?"

"Dr. Brennan?"

I knew this voice.

"Hodgins," I said.

"Hi... um... I'm not really sure how to..." he paused and then continued, "Zack's been reported missing."

"No, that's not possible. He's in the mental institution."

"Yeah, he _was_ in the mental institution. Now he's not."

"People don't just disappear, Hodgins."

"He didn't just disappear... look, come up to the lab. Booth will be here in a little while to give us all of the details."

"Why didn't _Booth_ call me?"

"He's preoccupied."

"What does that mean? Hodgins, what's going on?"

"Just get over here, okay?" Hodgins said with exasperation and then hung up so that I couldn't argue about it anymore.

I stared at the phone, as though _it_ were responsible for the two unusual phone calls I had received. Working through both of the calls in my head, I went into my bedroom and threw on some shoes and a dress-coat, since it was already out from having worn it to work just a half-hour ago. I went back into the living room to grab my purse when I heard ringing again. My eyes glanced to the phone, but the blinking light that informed me of a call wasn't blinking. It took me a minute to realize that it was my cell phone: most likely Booth.

I ran over to the kitchen counter where I had left my purse, dug through it for a second until I found my cell, ringing and vibrating. "Hello?" I asked as I opened it up.

"I decided I'd call you on this phone, so that you'd know I could contact you wherever you were."

That wasn't booth. The voice belonged to the man that called earlier. "Who are you and how did you get my number?" I asked, grabbing my purse up and heading out.

"No names right now and it doesn't matter. I assume you know about your missing friend by now."

I stopped dead. "You have..."

"Yes, I have your ex-assistant. Good boy. Very cooperative, which is helpful. And what a mind! He's been rambling on and on, almost like he's speaking in a different language. It's truly incredible," the man said, as though he were having a conversation with an old friend.

"Where is he?"

"Relax, Temperance."

"Dr. Brennan," I snapped.

"Fine. Dr. Brennan. He's fine. A little shaken, but otherwise in perfectly good condition. And where he is doesn't matter for the time being. He's just insurance."

"Insurance of what?" I asked, feeling anger rising up in my throat.

"That you'll keep our conversations to yourself. I cannot stress how important that is going to be for Zack's well-being. Don't tell Booth, your boss, your colleagues, not even your psychiatrist Sweets. And believe me, I'll know if you do. Am I clear, Dr. Brennan?"

"You're clear."

"Good. Now, go to your lab and meet with your friends. Booth will give you some useless information, most likely throw out a few scenarios and suspects and then you will leave and get some sleep. Tomorrow morning, the Jeffersonian will get a package. When it arrives, I'll call you on your cell phone and instruct you from there. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I said.

"Good. Have a good night, Dr. Brennan. Mm... pretty name. Temperance Brennan. Just beautiful," he said and then hung up again.

I paused, running information through my head. Whoever that was knew my cell phone number and house number, the name of my psychologist and that my name wasn't my birth-name, which meant that he'd done his research. Until I got more answers, I decided to keep it to myself. I needed more information before making a final decision and the one who had that was Booth.

It was ten minutes before I got to the Jeffersonian, which had seemed like eternity with my mind racing like it did when I saw a new set of bones. I found Hodgins, Angela and Goodman in the conference room, sitting with their heads lowered and slightly slumped in their chairs. Booth, who was standing, walked immediately over to me.

"Bones, you're here."

"Yeah, what's going on, Booth?" I asked. "Hodgins called and said that-"

"I know, I know, I'll tell you everything I know," Booth said, leading me over to one of the chairs and gently sitting me down.

"Booth, what's going on?" Angela asked.

Booth put his hands on his hips, making him look slightly bigger and then sighed. "Zack went missing about an hour ago. Police searched the area surrounding the hospital and found a piece of his shirt. I'm having it sent over here so that you guys can analyze it and... see if you can get anything off of it."

"Do you mean that Zack... ran away?" Angela asked.

"I'm not _saying_ anything at this point. One of the nurses saw him go into his room, went to check on him later and he wasn't there."

"Zack wouldn't run away," Angela said. "That's just... not Zack."

"We didn't think Zack could be an apprentice to a serial killer, either," Hodgins said.

Angela flashed an angry look at him.

He held up his arms, "I'm just being realistic. I mean, we don't know Zack as much as we thought we did."

"He wouldn't have run," Angela said defiantly.

"Guys, come on," Booth said, looking at the two of them sternly before continuing. "Right now we don't know anything for sure. The police are getting the staff and patients questioned as we speak. Hopefully someone saw something." He looked around at everyone and then focused on me. "How is... everyone doing?"

"How do you think?" Hodgins asked.

"Hodgins," Camille snapped.

"We're fine, Booth," I said, trying hard to sound convincing, but all I could think about was the fact that I had information (important information) that I was keeping to myself. I had to think about this logically, though. Saying something might be Zack at risk. I needed to talk to the kidnapper a little more and get an idea of what _exactly_ was going on. Why kidnap Zack? Why not someone a little easier to get to, like Hodgins or Angela or someone closer to me, like my brother? It somehow didn't add up in my mind. I was missing some pieces and until I got them, I needed to stay quiet.


	2. The Skeleton

**Sorry about how long it took for me to get this up! I was busy for a while and then my internet went down!!! It was ridiculous!!! Anyways... hope you enjoy!! =)**

Zack's room was bland, white and strangely fuzzy, the door closed off with yellow tape. Hodgins was scoping the room for anything he could use while Booth and I were standing just outside, watching and waiting as Hodgins scooped up dust and particulates.

"Why am I here, Booth? There are no bones," I said, sighing.

"You think like Zack. I thought you could... you know... look around and see if anything's off."

"Off how?" I asked.

"Come on, Bones. Out of place. Doesn't fit. Just..." he gestured inside the room expectantly.

I sighed and peered around, although there wasn't much to look at. I studied every individual area, keeping Zack's mannerisms and habits in mind.

"You know, this would be a lot easier if I had an idea of what I was looking..." Hodgins paused, staring down at one of the corners, "for... I found something!" he exclaimed excitedly, kneeling down, keeping his eyes fixated on the same spot.

"Couldn't that have come from the roof or something?" Booth asked, looking up at the ceiling.

"It would be thicker," Hodgins said. "I'll be able to tell once I get it to the lab."

"Booth..." I said, my eyes suddenly glancing out of the window into the darkness that surrounded the facility.

"Yeah?" he asked, his hands on his hips with his coat pushed back.

"What's that out there?" I asked, pointing.

Booth followed my gaze out the window and then turned to several of the police officers around him. "Has the entire perimeter been searched?"

"Yes, Agent Booth," one of the officers replied.

"And no one's been _in_ or _out_?"

"No, sir."

"Booth, that's a body..." I said, fear suddenly pulsing through my body and ran outside.

It was hanging from a tree about a yard away from the building by a rope tied to its wrists. Once I got up to it, it took me a moment to figure out what I was seeing. It was a complete skeleton, all the pieces having been taped together precariously. It was a female Caucasian around her early twenties. What was odd, though, was that it looked as if the bones had been cleaned. Taped to the right foot was a folded piece of paper. Throwing on a pair of gloves, I carefully removed and opened it. It read:

_Dear Temperance, _

_How did I die? Unlike a dozen suits, bones do not lie._

I stared at the piece of paper when Booth suddenly ran up beside me.

"Ohh! That's a body!"

"It's not Zack," I said.

"Well that's double the good news because thanks to that," he pointed at the remains, "this is now a homicide investigation and possible kidnap. _My_ territory."

"Kidnap?" I asked, the word hitting me suddenly and making me nervous. Did he know?

"Yeah. We found two sets of tracks outside of Zack's window and- get this- drag marks in-between them."

"So..."

"So someone comes to Zack's room, knocks him out and drags him off. We should be getting a call from the kidnapper soon with demands. You know what I wonder, though... Why kidnap someone from a mental institution, you know? That's feels off to me."

"Me, too," I agreed, although I already had the answer to that.

"And then this," he said, gesturing to the body. "Why leave this behind?"

"You're jumping to conclusions, Booth. This might not be connected to Zack's disappearance."

"Well, then it's some _freaky_ coincidence. Come on, Bones, a kidnapping and murder on the same night in the _exact_ same place? This is the kidnapper's... hey, is that a letter? Let me see it," he said and took it from me before I had given him permission. As he read it, he mumbled the words to himself and then glanced up at me. "What the hell does that mean?"

"I think whoever put this here wants us to find this woman's killer."

"Why not send it to the Jeffersonian, then? Why hang it up here?" he said, observing the skeleton closely.

I shrugged.

"And why kidnap Zack? Unless... the kidnapper knows him, so maybe he's trying to get to somebody that Zack's close with... his family's not that wealthy, so he'd most likely contact you or Hodgins. Has anyone called you?"

"No, no one," I said, looking down at the letter in an attempt to avoid Booth's eye contact.

"It's okay, Bones... We'll find him," he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. He must have misinterpreted my nervousness at being figured out for worry, which, for now, was useful.

"So, what can you tell me about this... uh..."

"Woman. Not much. Caucasian, mid-twenties. There's an indention in one of the rib bones, congruent with a stab."

"So, she was stabbed in the chest?"

"Yes. And then cleaned."

"Wait, what, _cleaned_?"

"Yes. These bones have been preserved much like we preserve remains at... the Jeffersonian." I stopped and looked at him. He was staring back at me with a knowing expression.

"Missing any skeletons, Bones?"

"I'll get Cam to check inventory," I said.

"You know what t his is starting to remind me of?" Booth asked.

I looked at him curiously. "What?"

"Gorma...geddeon."

"_Gormogon_. This isn't anything like him. Besides, you shot him."

"Yeah, but he might have fans out there."

"So they kidnapped Zack?"

"Maybe," he said, shrugging slightly as he mulled it over in his mind. I could already see him building up insane scenarios like he usually did. "I don't know. I'm just keeping open the possibilities, okay? Don't diss my system."

"I don't know what that means."

"Just... do your stuff," he said and then walked off, yelling for someone to bag whatever I wanted bagged or sent to the Jeffersonian. I watched him walk off for a second and then felt my hand suddenly go for the cell that was in my pocket. I wanted it to ring. I needed to talk to the kidnapper again, but I knew he wouldn't call. Not yet. Sighing, I looked up at the remains again, looking them over one more time before ordering for everything to be sent to the Jeffersonian.


	3. Gormogon?

**Sorry about how long it took to upload the next chapter. I was going through really bad writers block. I'll try to update more quickly from now on. Anyways, enjoy!

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It didn't take long for me to realize that the cleaning process given to the bones was not professional and appeared to have been done in haste since there were little bits of flesh still left on the bones. I had Angela take the skull to start reconstruction of the face, while I got to work.

I and one of my new interning assistants named Wendell Bray were able to determine everything about the victim with surprisingly quick ease; a stab wound to the chest, followed shortly by cannibalism.

"Dr. Brennan?" Wendell said, examining a rib carefully.

"Yes?" I asked, not looking up from my own work.

"These indentions aren't all identical."

"Let me see," I said, taking the bone and examining it myself. He was right. I was able to count at least four different sets. "Indentions on the bones suggest the victim was eaten by four different people."

Wendell made a face in display of disgust, but continued working. That was something that I liked about Wendell over the other interns. He was unobtrusive, almost as if he weren't really there, but intelligent and capable.

Suddenly Hodgins entered the room. "I found out what that substance was on the floor of Zack's room. It was acrylic resin… from dentures. Also I found traces of chloroform and fresh cement."

"And what does all of this tell you?" I asked.

"Well, it certainly proves Zack was kidnapped and that his kidnappers walked in a recently paved road, which can give us an idea of where these people came from and possibly where they'll take Zack."

"_These people_?" I asked.

"Booth said that there were three sets of footprints found in the room, all of which have cement on them."

"Good work, Hodgins."

"Hey, Brennan, get this," Angela said, coming up behind Hodgins excitedly. "I just IDed our dead girl."

"Already?" I asked with surprise, looking up briefly from a phalange. "Hairline fractures on the hand indicate a struggle."

Ignoring my little examination, Angela continued, "Yep. Apparently this girl died eight years ago. Her name was Anna Whittaker. The case was dropped due to a lack of evidence. Police couldn't locate the murder weapon, but they had several suspects. I'm uploading all of the information onto my laptop."

"Good. Make sure that you send it to Booth."

"Where is Booth anyway?" Angela asked.

"He's still interrogating some of the nurses. Wendell, keep examining the bones and see if you can find anything a coroner might have missed. Hodgins, try to find out where the dentures were made came from. Angela, I'll need all of the medical files on the victim brought to me."

"You got it," Angela said with a smile, turning and walking away.

I left the room and headed for my office to call Booth. As I entered the room, I stopped from surprise when my phone rang. I ran and picked up.

"Dr. Brennan of the Jeffersonian."

"Yes, hello, I have some information concerning the recent kidnapping of a Mr. Zack Addy. I was told to call you," said a slightly rugged, quiet male voice.

"Yes, I am Dr. Brennan. What kind of information do you have for me?" I asked quickly, grabbing a paper and pencil quickly in case I needed to write anything down.

"I can't discuss it on the phone. Is it alright if we meet?"

"Of course. What time and where?" I asked, feeling suddenly hopeful.

"I was hoping to meet you at The Royal Diner at 7:30 sharp. Oh, and I am aware that you tend to include an FBI agent in most of your exploits, but for the sake of discretion, it would be safer if you came alone. I'm risking enough just calling."  
"Yes. I will come to the diner," I said, pausing momentarily to think over the caller's meeting place. It was likely that he had seen me enter the Royal Diner several times and assumed that this would be the least conspicuous, considering the fact that I went there so often.

"Alright. See you at 7:30 sharp," he said and with that, he hung up.

I put the phone back in its holder and started running over all of the information in my head. How did the caller know about the kidnapping? The news were just now beginning to learn about the incident, so either the caller was a first-hand witness who had been afraid to come forward to the police, or it was one of the kidnappers. I couldn't determine why one of the kidnappers would want to talk to me at the diner, but then the former question had its own obscurities. Why would a witness be afraid to come forward? I tried to think like Booth did, using conjecture to get a motive, but I was never really good at that sort of thing. I briefly considered asking Booth, but then thought better of it. If I asked him that, he would start asking questions that would eventually lead to the phone call and he would then insist upon coming with me to the diner. If the caller saw Booth, he likely wouldn't talk to either of us, so the only logical choice was to keep the call to myself.

Suddenly my cell phone rang, breaking my concentration and making me jump slightly. I took it from my pocket and held it up. "Brennan."

"Tempy, Tempy… did you like my gift? I decided I would leave it hanging around for you to find instead. I hope you don't mind. What's your conclusion at this point?"

I recognized the voice and a scowl soon appeared on my face. I turned from the windows to ensure no one could see. "I don't make conclusions until I have all of the facts," I stated.

"Ah, yes, yes. Of course. You like the truth. But I would say truth is relative, wouldn't you? Is blue really blue? It's only blue because somebody else said it was blue. Truth is really in the eye of the beholder, isn't it?"

"What do you want? Where did you take Zack?" I asked, anger rising in my voice.

"Not in the mood to banter? Fine. He's fine… for now. What a magnificent mind, too! I swear you can see the cogs in his brain spinning in perfect harmony. Just beautiful," he said and his tone sounded like it was truly awed.

"What do you want?" I asked again through my teeth.

"Don't be hasty! A steady pace wins the race. I was actually calling about your new intern… Wendell, isn't it?"

I didn't answer.

"Very capable. He's worked hard to get to where he is, what with his poor background, but he has a fine career ahead of him."

I still didn't say anything, wondering where he was going with this.

"Fischer is a bit depressing, isn't he? But in a comedic sort of way. I personally find him very entertaining. And Vincent Nigel-Murray is just full of interesting and pointless information. So many assistants to choose from. How _ever_ will you manage? But enough chit-chat. You've done an excellent job so far, Dr. Brennan. Keep it up and you'll see Mr. Addy in no time at all." With that, he hung up.

I surmised that he had just called to torment me, why I didn't know, but it seemed the only logical explanation for the pointless conversation. He may, also, have been warning me. I didn't like the fact that he was suddenly aware of my new interns, but not just their background (which I'm sure he knew) but their personalities, which would suggest that he was watching them all. That disturbed me. Everyone I came in contact with was in serious danger. If that was the case, then I would have to tell Booth, but to tell Booth would be to risk Zack's life.

My mind started working, trying to find a solution to the problem. Booth had to be concerned for my friends on his own accord for something perhaps completely different from what was really going on. Before I could really start to reflect over the idea, Wendell had walked in and was talking to me.

"I was just examining the skull when I realized that one of the teeth wasn't hers. It was glued into the skull."

"Glued?" I asked.

"Yes. It was one of the canines."

"Well if it's not Anna Whittaker's canine, then whose is it?"

"I hope you don't mind, but I overheard Hodgins talking about Gormogon and I decided to have a look at the skeleton for myself. One of his canines was missing."

"What are you suggesting?" I asked, folding my arms.

He hesitated and seemed afraid that I was about to get mad at him, which was a distinct possibility given the fact that he had taken a very illogical and conjectural venture into the origin of the canine, but at last, he continued, "The canine found on Anna Whittaker's skull was Gormogon's, which says to me two things; one, this is definitely related to the Gormogon case and two; that canine was _recently_ placed into the victim's skull."

My eyes suddenly widened. "Which means the killer has been in the lab recently."

Wendell nodded with an almost sad expression, as if it pained him to tell me this.

"I need to call Booth," I said.

Wendell nodded and turned to leave, but stopped at the door. "Um… Dr. Brennan?"

"Yes?" I asked.

Wendell paused, seeming to be contemplating something very hard and struggled for a moment to get himself to speak, but when he did, it sounded strangely hollow, like it wasn't what he had wanted to say. "I um… I'll be examining the skeleton."

I stared at him for a moment and then nodded.

He smiled slightly and then left me alone in my office.

* * *

The discovery of the Gormogon canine in Anna Whittaker's skull turned out to be helpfully advantageous for me. Booth went to work immediately going through the backgrounds of every worker at the Jeffersonian and interrogating them thoroughly alongside Sweets- who would ensure that they were mentally stable. Everything concerning Gormogon was placed under constant surveillance, including everyone that worked on the case. I thought he reacted extremely irrationally, considering that he seemed to be panicking over the discovery of a canine, but it suited my needs, so I didn't pester him about it.

Once he had finished interrogating every single Jeffersonian worker, gone over all security tapes (which came up with nothing) and set up the necessary security additions to ensure the sanctity of the Jeffersonian, he came into my office, moving his coat back and putting his hands on his hips with a sigh. "Zack never mentioned any more apprentices, did he?"

I looked up at him and shook my head. "No. Gormogon took only one apprentice at a time and his last one was Zack," I said factually.

"Then what's with all of this Gormogon-ish stuff coming up all over the place?" Booth asked exasperatedly. "Maybe someone wants us to think it's Gormogon…"

"Well, that would be illogical. We already know it isn't Gormogon because you shot him, remember?"

"Yes, I remember," Booth said, rolling his eyes. He turned to me. "What did Hopgins come up with on that stuff in Zack's room?"

"He says it's a material commonly used in the tires of wheelchairs."

"Wheelchairs?"

"Yes."

"Did he find it anywhere else in the room besides that spot?"

I shook my head and looked at him incredulously as he seemed to pause and stare at the floor thoughtfully. Suddenly he looked up at me, "They left that there. Hodgins was _supposed_ to find it."

"That's pure conjecture!"

"Wasn't the old Gormogon in a wheelchair at some old-people home?" Booth asked.

"Yes, but there are a lot of people in wheelchairs, Booth. There's nothing that would suggest that the material in Zack's room would belong to the wheelchair of the old Gormogon."

Booth sighed, but seemed to agree that this theory was far-fetched, so he moved on. "How are you holding up?"

I looked at him with a puzzled expression. "I don't know what you mean."

"I mean, with Zack missing," Booth said gently.

I resituated my jaw and shrugged. I had information that he didn't, like I knew to a certain degree who had taken him and that he was very likely alive, so I took a moment to consider how I would react were this information unavailable to me. "I can't say for certain until I have more information."

"No, I mean how's this?" he asked, tapping his chest with two fingers.

"I assume that it's pumping at a healthy pace."

"Your heart, Bones. What's going on, I mean… emotionally? I mean, you know we're going to find him right?"

"No one can know that for certain," I stated, feeling my throat suddenly tighten. I coughed slightly and it relaxed again.

"Bones, it's okay to be worried."

"I'm not worried!"

Booth gave me a dubious look. "You're not worried?"

"No. I am aware of all of the possible outcomes and have… come to terms with them."

"Okay, okay," he said, raising his hands in exasperated surrender. "Whatever you say."

There was silence for a moment and we both stared at the ground, delved into our own thoughts. It wasn't uncomfortable, just quiet. I contemplated telling Booth everything that I knew then. We rarely kept secrets from each other, but I somehow couldn't get myself to say anything. Not yet, I kept telling myself. Not until I had more information. I needed to be fully aware of the situation to make a rational and logical decision.

After a few long seconds went by, Booth clapped his hands together and turned towards the door. "Okay, I'm going to go check with the police, see what they come up with on Anna Whittaker."

"Okay," I said. "Booth?"

He stopped and looked at me.

"Our background concerning cases would suggest that we have a very high chance of finding Zack."

A big, gentle smile suddenly crossed Booth's face and he nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Bones. Definitely." Giving one final look, his eye glinting slightly as it did sometimes, he turned and left the room.

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**Aha! The plot thickens!!!!! XP**


	4. A Pat

**Sorry if it's moving too fast. I have a lot to cover in this story, so I'll try to slow it down a smidge. Enjoy! =D

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I had gone over the remains several of times, but I couldn't find anything besides what had already been observed. Wendell stayed with me most of the time, examining each bone with as much interest and concentration as I did, but even so I would check the ones he looked at, just to make sure. As good as he was, none of the interns would ever surpass Zack's skill. I felt a small lump form in my throat and forced it away by concentrating harder on my work.

Eventually Booth returned with a full detail of Anna Whittaker's report.

"The coroner was very thorough, reported everything that you saw… but get this, they had a suspect and he was charged with murder."

"So?"

"So the jury is made up of 12 suits."

"The message!"

"Yes. Zack's kidnapper thinks that the court put the wrong guy in prison."

"Who was the accused?" I asked.

Booth opened the file he had been holding under his arm and flipped through its pages for a minute. "Uh… Adam Gray. He was put in prison at 19 years old. Whew. Just a kid. He's been in jail for about 6 years." Booth's face fell into an expression of sympathetic sadness. "We should probably go talk to the guy and hear his story."

"Isn't it in the report?" I asked.

"Yeah… but it sticks with me better when I hear it directly from the person talking."

"Okay, when will we go?"

"Later. I have a little more to do. Hodgins gave us some possible areas for where we can find Zack, or at least the kidnapper. I'll call you." He then turned and left us to our work.

I watched him leave for a second and then looked down in frustration at the bones in front of me. There was nothing else to do. I felt so useless I almost wanted the kidnapper to call me again just so I could feel like I was doing something important in getting Zack back and then I remembered the call I had received by someone claiming to have information. I looked up and turned to Wendell. "Dr. Bray, I'm going to need you to finish up here. I have to go," I said, and then grabbed my coat and started heading for the door before he could ask any questions.

In a few minutes, I was sitting in the Royal Diner, looking around for the caller. I had brought my gun, just in case this was some sort of trap, but I doubted I would need it; a crowded diner wasn't exactly the best place to try anything. I ran my finger over the handle of the coffee cup sitting in front of me and looked down at my watch. It was 7:43. He still hadn't come, but judging by the nervousness he was showing on the phone, I guessed that he was waiting for when he felt he was most safe, so I stayed… I stayed until 8:12 and still he hadn't shown up. Several people had come in over that time and had sat relatively close to me, but none had shown any signs of recognizing me, but still I was determined, so I continued to sit and sip at my coffee.

Very few people have snuck up on me before. I had only turned my head for a second, but when I turned it back, the man who had been sitting several chairs away from me for about thirty minutes was suddenly in the chair right next to me. The surprise of suddenly finding him there made me jump slightly, but I quickly regained my composure and looked at him calmly. "I assume that you're the one that called me."

He had dark brown hair, small, intense eyes and seemed to be grinning, even though his expression was drawn and I was immediately attracted to him. He smiled and gave a little nod, staring into and almost through me. "I am" he said.

"Why didn't you take your information to the police?" I asked.

"Discretion," he said placidly and handed me an envelope from the inside pocket of his coat. I took it and opened it, examining the contents discreetly and felt my heart stop. They were pictures… of Zack, tied to a chair, his mouth was taped shut and he was wearing a blindfold, but he appeared to be alright. He had a few bruises, but that was the extent of his injuries.

"Where did you get these pictures?" I asked.

"I took them."

I looked at him and went wide-eyed and reached into my purse, but found that it was missing and that the man sitting beside me seemed to be pointing his coat pocket at me, but his aim was off; he was pointing it towards my thigh.

"Relax, Dr. Brennan," he said and I suddenly realized that this was _not_ the kidnapper.

"Who are you?"

"Bishop," he said.

"Where's Zack?"

"As of two hours ago, I don't know," he said. "They keep moving, which, despite the danger of it, is very smart."

"You didn't kidnap Zack, so why are you pointing a gun at me?" I asked. "And you knew where he was! Why didn't you help him!" I said, raising my voice slightly and people looked over for a second, but assumed we were a couple having marital problems and turned back around.

"One question at a time," Bishop said, smiling gently. "You'll understand everything soon enough."

"Do you know who took Zack?" I asked.

He nodded. "I do, but I can't tell you. I'm here to tell you this, Dr. Brennan, they're going to kill Mr. Addy. That was their original intention. I am the only thing that's keeping them from doing so."

I watched him, waiting for him to continue, but for a moment, he simply stared at me, right into my eyes and I briefly thought of poking him in the eyes, but remembered the gun and stopped.

Finally, he started again, "Your caller is going to ask multiple favors. Humor him and do them. The chores are harmless and will do nothing but take a little time from your day and give Mr. Addy that much longer to live. Now, besides the chores, things are going to happen and for Mr. Addy's sake, you're going to ignore them. You can try to catch me as much as you'd like and solve the case, but none of your friends ever know anything. They do and they die. And believe me Dr. Brennan, I can get to them, no matter _where_ they are."

I stared at him, anger boiling inside me but I remained silent.

"Alright. Stay here for about five minutes. I'll be gone by then. Keep the pictures and see what your friend Angela can get from them. Try to follow me and I'll shoot you." With this, he stood and started heading towards the door.

I wanted to stop him so badly, but I sat watching him leave, counting the seconds in my mind. As he exited, he looked into the window and grinned at me and then crossed the street.

After he had disappeared from sight, I ran towards the direction I had seen him go. I searched the surrounding area for about ten minutes before concluding that he had vanished.

When I got home, I found my gun sitting on the kitchen counter with a little note that read;

_Anywhere._

_Best of luck, Bishop_

I frowned and stuffed the paper into my pocket angrily and felt the envelope that he had given me. I stopped and opened it up again, viewing the four or five pictures of Zack tied to a chair, when I came across the last picture. I stared at it and felt tears start to well in my eyes. It was a picture of me and Zack from the security camera at the Jeffersonian. He had been showing me the different ways elders show approval or disapproval (a pat on the shoulder was good, a punch on the arm was bad). I was giving him a pat.

* * *

**Little sweet moment between Bones and Zack from the show. It was such a sweet part. *sniffles***


	5. Zackaroni

**Okay, for those of you who noticed, I've been extremely contradictory in the story so far, and I apologize for that, but I am getting back on track and I hope I haven't ruined it too much for you. Anyway, I'll try to be more organized in the future.

* * *

**

Adam Gray stared at me through the glass, holding the phone up to his ear and then looked at Booth. "I already told the police everything I knew about this case years ago."

"Do you still claim you're innocent?" Booth asked.

"What difference does it make?" Adam asked. "Nobody believes me anyway."

"Would you please just answer the question? Anything you say might help us in a kidnap."

"A kidnap?" Adam asked. "Someone I know?"

"No, but someone who was in a similar situation. Please answer the question," Booth insisted.

"I'm innocent," Adam said. "I didn't kill that girl. What happened to her was..." he paused and seemed to struggle to finish his sentence, "horrible."

Booth stared at him for a second. "I believe you, Adam... and someone else does too. Was there anyone in your family or anyone you knew who would have done something... drastic to prove your innocence?"

"Drastic? Like kidnap?" Adam asked. "No, I mean, they tried their hardest to get me out and prove my innocence, but nobody would have done something like that."

"Are you sure? Maybe an angry girlfriend?"

"I didn't have one," Adam said. "I was uh... celibate at the time."

"I have a friend who's trying celibacy," I chipped in, "she's having a very difficult time with it. She likes to get her "kicks" as she calls them through my sexual stories. Do you do that?"

"Uh..." Adam breathed, blushing slightly.

"You don't have to answer that," Booth said and then looked at me with annoyance.

"What?" I asked.

"How about I do the talking for this one, okay?"

"Why?" I asked.

"Just..." he didn't finish, but there was no need. As much as I disliked it, my people skills were not as refined as his and he knew best when for me not to say anything.

"Mr. Gray have you ever heard the name Gormigian?"

"Gormogon," I corrected.

"Right. That."

"Yeah, I heard about it on the news."

"Anytime before that?"

"No, why?" Adam asked curiously.

"Because the woman you were accused of killing may have been another victim of that cannibalistic serial killer."

"Oh, shit," Adam said. "What does that mean?"

"It means that if we can match the dental records to the indentions on the bones of Ms. Anna Whittaker, we may be able to prove your innocence," I said.

"Really?" Adam asked, smiling brightly.

"It's possible," I said factually.

"Oh, that would be... great!" Adam exclaimed. "You don't know how much that would mean to me! Do you need anything else from me? I'll do anything to help."

"Well, our kidnappers sent Anna Whittaker's skeleton and a note to Dr. Brennan, which suggests that they know you somehow," Booth said.

"They?" Adam asked.

"Three that we know of," he said.

Adam paused and looked down for a second in thought, rubbing the back of his neck. After a few moments, he looked up. "Well, you know I had this guy come visit me a few days ago. I didn't really think anything of it at the time, but maybe it can help you. I thought he was crazy because he kept changing subjects."

"What did he say?"

"Well, he first introduced himself... some guy named Lawson, I think. Tom Lawson. Yeah, that was it. He kept talking about his nephew who had this weird Italian name or something... Zackotoni... Zacka..."

"Zackaroni?" I asked, my heart stopping.

"Yeah, that sounds right. And it was weird too because the guy didn't sound Italian at all. He talked like a fancy guy."

_Bishop._ I thought to myself. That had to be who he was talking about.

"Anyway, he said his nephew was in some trouble and told me to tell him to see his therapist."

"Therapist?" Booth asked curiously.

"Therapist or psychiatrist or something. I can't really remember, but he acted like I knew his nephew or something. After that he said he'd keep an eye on me and left."

"Can you say anything specific about this man's appearance?" Booth asked.

"Black hair, small eyes, he was wearing a brown jacket, but other than that he looked average," he said with a shrug.

"You know what, Adam, I'm going to come back later with another colleague and she's going to ask you about the guy. She might be able to draw up a picture of him. Thanks for your time," Booth said.

"Sure. I got nothing else to do," Adam said with a chuckle. "Hey, you were serious about maybe proving my innocence, right?"

I nodded.

He smiled brightly. "That's... awesome."

I smiled a little and then turned to follow Booth out of the room.

"Okay, we have a suspect now. See, this is why I go to people in person, Bones," Booth said as we walked down a long hall. "What was the whole thing about the psychiatrist?"

"Adam said that... Lawson," I said carefully, trying not to say 'Bishop' and give anything away, "said for Zack to see his psychiatrist."

"But that was a message to us, Bones," Booth said.

"So... Sweets?" I said.

Booth nodded.

"Why would he want us to talk to Sweets?" I asked.

Booth shrugged. "I don't know. Won't hurt to see, though."

I nodded in agreement. Suddenly my phone rang. I paused and Booth looked at me curiously. "Aren't you going to answer?" he asked.

Hesitantly, I took it out of my pocket and opened it. "Hello?"

"Dr. Brennan, I just got a call from the FBI," Hodgins said- I let out a little sigh of relief- "who told me that some of the evidence in Zack's room was planted _after_ the kidnapping."

"What?" I asked when Booth's phone rang as well. "What evidence?"

"All of the evidence concerning Gormogon," Hodgins said.

I stopped. "Really?"

"Yep. Maybe one of the kidnappers went back to plant fake evidence, get us to follow the wrong lead."

"No, it was a message," I said.

"A message?" Hodgins asked.

"Yes. Someone _does_ want our attention on Gormogon, but not to distract us."

"Why would someone do that?" Hodgins asked curiously.

I shook my head. "I don't know. Call me if you find anything else," I said and hung up and looked at Booth, who had finished his phone call as well. "Did they tell you what they found?"

He nodded. "I heard you talking. You think that the planted evidence is a message? Isn't that what you would call conjecture?" Booth asked.

"All of the facts clearly point to Gormogon, not just what we found in Zack's room. To be honest I'm not surprised that they were planted."

"What?"

"The acrylic resin, the residue from the wheel of a wheelchair; it just seemed too neat. The oldest Gormogon alive is in a wheelchair and his apprentice made himself dentures."

"Why didn't you say anything before?" Booth asked.

"I didn't have enough information at the time. Now I am fairly certain that this case is very much about Gormogon."

Booth looked like he was about to say something, but seemed to think better of it.

"Come on," I said. "Let's get back to the lab."


	6. Innocence

**Sorry about another shortish chapter; I'm having to do it this way, though due to time and my desire to keep this story updated regularly. I'm kind of worried about OCness in this chap, so if you have any critiques, please feel free to share :)

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**

Booth and I barged into Sweets' office as we usually did (he looked up and was going to protest, but must have realized that it never did any good, so did nothing) and stood over him as he sat in his usual seat, observing a file he had open in his hands.

"Okay, Sweets," Booth said, sitting down across from him, "What do you got for us?"

Sweets looked at him blankly for a second. "Uh... well... I would say that your kidnapper is vengeful against Brennan, hence the letter-"

"No, no, no. What do you got on Zack?" Booth asked, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together in front of him.

"I don't know what you mean," Sweets said. "What's going on?"

"We think you know something about Zack you're not telling us," I said blatantly. "What... you think _I_ kidnapped him?!" Sweets asked in pure shock.

"No!" Booth said, rolling his eyes.

"What we mean is that we have reason to believe that you have some information on Zack that might lead us to his kidnapper. Did you talk to him about anything specific maybe in your sessions or-" I began, but he cut me off.

"Dr. Brennan, what is said between me and my patients is strictly confidential. I am not allowed to share anything my patients say to me."

"Sweets," Booth began, edging to the front of his seat, "It could help us find Zack. Whatever he said to you may be important to the investigation."

Sweets looked at him thoughtfully and then sighed. "I... you have to swear that what I tell you won't leave this room. I mean pinky-promise," Sweets said.

"Sweets, we're adults. We don't pinky-swear. But we promise that what you tell us stays in this room," Booth said.

I looked at him, about to protest, but he gave me a silencing look, so I leaned forward to hear what Sweets had to say.

He was uncertain at first and had trouble beginning his sentence, as though still contemplating whether or not to tell us, but at last, he sighed. "Zack didn't kill the lobbyist."

I stared at him, wondering if I had heard him correctly.

Booth, too, stared at him, mouth agape as he processed the information in his head. "What?"

"He never actually killed him," Sweets said. "Gormogon killed him."

"Then why is _Zack_ in the loony-bin?!" Booth asked.

"If he were to tell the police that he was an accessory to murder, he'd be thrown in prison and he's been very clear about the fact that he wouldn't do well in prison. He took the only other option."

"He didn't kill him?" I finally asked.

Sweets shook his head.

"W-why didn't he tell us?" I asked.

"I don't know," Sweets answered helplessly, shrugging his shoulders.

"We have to go tell Hodgins and Angela," I said, standing. Booth quickly grabbed my hand and stopped me from heading out the door.

"I just said this can't leave this room!" Sweets exclaimed.

"They deserve to know that Zack wasn't a killer!" I said, my voice rising slightly. "Why didn't he tell us?!"

"I don't know his reasoning," Sweets said calmly. "But he didn't want anyone to know. He told me that if it got out that he didn't actually stab the lobbyist that he would go to prison."

"We wouldn't have told anyone! I deserved to know!" I said, my voice rising almost to a yell and it caught in my throat, making me choke on the words slightly.

"I can see you're hurt, Dr. Brennan," Sweets said gently.

I looked at him and was about to deny it, but I couldn't; I was so angry. Why didn't he tell me? Why did he leave me believing that he could do such a horrible thing? Why would he do that to me?

"Zack didn't kill the lobbyist..." Booth said, trying out the words to see how they felt. He seemed to still find them strange in his mouth, but he said it again and it came a bit easier. He paused, thinking over the information and then looked up. "Adam Gray didn't kill Anna Whittaker."

Sweets looked at him blankly. "Who?"

"Adam Gray didn't kill Anna Whittaker. Why would the kidnapper want us to know Zack didn't kill anyone?" Booth asked, looking up at me contemplatively.

"Only someone who cared about him would do that," Sweets stated. "Try his family."

"Already on it," Booth said, standing and heading out the door. I began to follow him when Sweets stopped me.

"Dr. Brennan... if you need anything... I'm always here," he said.

I looked at him for a second and then quickly followed after Booth.

"Of course," Booth said to himself as he was walking, "the family kidnaps him until they can prove he's innocent. But why the letter?"

I said nothing as I walked beside him, knowing full-well that it wasn't his family that had kidnapped him; the pictures were enough proof of that. I focused my mind on figured out why Bishop would want me to know Zack was innocent. What did that accomplish? What was to be gained by my knowledge of the fact? I tried to concentrate on this question, but my mind kept flashing back to memories of Zack and to the thoughts that had gone swirling through my head when I thought he had murdered. Why would he keep that a secret from me?

"Bones..." Booth said, breaking me from my train of thought. I looked up at him.

He stared at me thoughtfully, looked down at the ground and then up at me again. "I... um... I'm sure he had a good reason. I mean, come on, it's Zack. The alien probably had a good reason for not telling you."

I looked at him, only part of my mind able to appreciate the attempt at comforting me, but looked down and nodded vaguely. I somehow didn't believe that; whether he had killed the lobbyist or not, he had changed. I forcibly buried my feelings. Now wasn't the time. Whatever the reason was for not telling me, I had to find him; I had to find Zack.

**Okay, if this has been at all boring so far, don't worry. It's about to get interesting... and dangerous! :P**


	7. Gormogon Fan Club and The Coles

**Hello everyone! I just want to real quick thank you for all of the faves. I'm very appreciative. Also, sorry to those of you who may have been reading this from the start that I've taken so long to update. I have been so busy and in a horrible creative slump. Anyways, here is the next chapter. Enjoy!! =D**

I had been sitting in the Royal Café for about an hour before he finally showed up. He appeared again from nowhere and sat down in the seat beside me. He ordered a coffee and waited until he was taking small sips from it before he even acknowledged I was there.

"Temperance," Bishop said with a smile and nod.

"Dr. Brennan," I said angrily.

He just smiled. "How can I help you?"

"I want answers."

Bishop looked at me with a half-playful half-apologetic look. "I'll do what I can."

"How about starting with the lobbyist."

"The lobbyist Mr. Addy allegedly killed," Bishop asked interestedly.

"So you _do_ know he didn't kill him?"

"I do. And judging by your look, you only recently found out. It must be difficult to accept, despite the relief you must feel, of course."

"So who _did_ kill the lobbyist?" I asked.

"You already know the answer to that," Bishop said dismissively. "How about we cut to the chase and you go on ahead and ask what's on your mind." He took a sip of his coffee, black, no sugar and then glanced at me.

"You did it, didn't you?"

Bishop frowned curiously at me. "Did what, exactly?"

"You've been planting the evidence. Leading Booth and I around. You led us to Adam Gray."

"You're clever," Bishop said with a smirk.

"Why? What is all of this?"

"It will be clear to you soon enough, but for now, its best you don't know."

"Best?" I asked angrily.

"There are some things, Temperance, that are out of your hands."

I stared at him and was about to argue, but I tried to remember that every moment spent arguing with him meant that much less time to save Zack, so I switched subjects. "What do they want with Zack?" I asked, my anger growing.

Bishop stared at me for a long while, frowning slightly. "Have you Googled Gormogon?"

I stared at him blankly for a second, then, "What?"

"Google it. You'll fine two types of groups; the first treat Gormogon himself as a religion, the second treat Gormogon's practice, his purpose, as a religion. His fan-base grows every day. The first group, those religious to Gormogon are currently revenge seekers... cowardly, for the most part, but bent on vengeance for his death nonetheless. The second group saw him as a teacher and now that Gormogon is dead, there is only one person left who could possibly teach them his ways... Mr. Addy."

"So who took him?" I asked.

"Both groups did," Bishop said plainly.

"But if the people that took Zack are just some fans how did we not find something more in Zack's room? The only thing left behind was things _you_ left purposefully."

"That's the interesting part," Bishop said with a smile. "They study Gormogon thoroughly, all of his kills... and everyone he's ever been in contact with. They know all about you and they know what your team can do. They covered all of their bases very skillfully. That's part of the reason they keep moving Mr. Addy to different hiding places. Dr. Hodgins can't follow their particle trail as easily."

"So how do we catch them?" I asked.

"Well, you're the scientist, Temperance, not me. That part is completely dependent on you."

I frowned and looked down at the ground, wishing that this could all just be over. I looked up at him again and he was taking another sip of coffee. He looked up at me and smiled, but not like his other smiles; this one seemed sadder; more... sympathetic? Was that sympathy? Before I could register it fully, his smile returned to the cool and collected look he had been wearing before.

"You said you're the thing that's keeping Zack alive?" I asked.

Bishop nodded.

"Then you know how he is... i-is... is he...?" I struggled to get the question out without sounding weak, but my pathetic stuttering and hesitance was not helping.

"He's fine," Bishop said reassuringly. "They haven't laid a hand on him; that I can assure you. And won't as long as I'm there." He looked down at the floor for a moment and then up at me again. "He talks very highly of you. "

"You've talked to him?" I asked.

"A few times."

"Then you know where he is now?" I asked.

"I make it a point to know where he is."

"What is it you're doing exactly that's keeping him alive?" I asked.

"Financing, encouraging arguments... promising," he said.

"Promising what?" I asked.

"That they'll get what they've earned."

I paused for a second, staring at him intently. There was so much to process, but all I could seem to think about was Bishop. How did he fit into all of this? Why was he doing this? Why this stupid game?

"Well, Dr. Brennan, it was a pleasure chatting with you, but I have some business that I have to get back to... and so do you, I believe. Did I answer all of your questions?"

I nodded. That was a lie, but I knew he wouldn't answer any of my other questions... not without force. Which gave me a sudden idea.

"Thank you for the information," I said.

"I'll contact you soon," he said and then, drinking the last bit in his coffee mug, he turned and left the restaurant.

When I was sure that he had gone, I quickly grabbed a napkin and wiped the part of the mug that he had touched with his lips and headed off for the Jeffersonian.

* * *

"Who is this again?" Angela asked, looking at the drawing she had just done.

"It's... a character in my book. It helps me to have a visual of my characters to work off of," I said.

"Well, he's hot," Angela said, studying the face with interest.

"No, he isn't," I said a little more angrily than I had intended.

Angela looked at me with a slightly startled expression. "Sorry. Just my opinion. But you know everyone has different tastes."

"Yes, that's what I was saying," I said. "Um... just to make sure I won't... offend anyone with this character, would you mind running this picture through the FBI database?"

Angela suddenly turned to me, hands on her hips. "Okay, seriously, who is this guy? New boyfriend?"

"No!" I said. "No, I just... happened to see him today and thought he looked familiar. I wanted to see who he was."

"Oh, well sure, then. Although I don't see why you had to be so secretive about it... oh wait! Was this an ex or something? Do you have a secret lover I don't know about?"

"Angela," I said impatiently.

"Sorry, sorry. Here we go," she said, going to the computer, taking the picture and running it through the database. It found a match at a surprising speed.

Angela and I both just stared at the screen, trying to make sure that we were reading it correctly.

"Well, honey, there's no way you saw this guy. He's been dead for years."

I read over the file; Samson Coles; USA Special Forces, murdered 2001. I stared at it, my mind trying to work everything into a shape that made sense.

"Was there a report for this?" I asked.

"Let me check," Angela said, typing down a few things. She opened the page she was looking for and stopped. "Sweety... we worked this case."

"What?" I asked.

"The Coles Case. Wow, that was years ago. A male and female, Arnold and Susan Coles found buried in their own backyard 2 years after they went missing. We found the killer. He was charged with the murder of Arnold, Susan and Samson Coles."

"That's right. He took a molar from each of his victims. He had one of Samson's."

"If I remember right, though, we never found the body of Samson... do you think you actually saw this dead kid walking around?" Angela asked excitedly. "He'd be... 36 now. Do you think he got away?"

"It's possible," I said.

"The question is; why didn't he ever identify himself?" She paused, then, "Do you want me to tell Booth?"

"No, it's okay," I said.

"What about Hodgins?"

"No. Just... keep this to yourself for now, okay?"

"Brennan."

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?" she asked concernedly.

"Yes."

"Look, this has been hard on all of us, but don't worry. We _will_ find Zack. Okay? Burying yourself in work isn't going to help. Take a break."

I smiled at her. "Thank you, Angela, but I'm fine," I said.

She frowned, but nodded.

Suddenly my phone rang and my heart stopped. I quickly pulled it out from my pocket and answered. "Hello?"

"Bones, we've got a lead," Booth said.

"I'm on my way."

* * *

**I had a lot of fun with this chapter. I'm afraid I'm going too fast, but I can't help it. lol. **


	8. Good News and Bad News

**I know! I updated so much quicker this time! lol Okay, this one has some excitement in it! Yay! xP Oh, also, in one part I switch a little into Angela's POV, except in third person, so I hope that doesn't confuse anyone. Enjoy =)

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**

I arrived about thirty minutes later, parking in front of the familiar house of Gormogon. I stared at it for a long while, trying to determine why I was here. But I wasn't called to Gormogon's house; Booth told me to meet at his neighbor's house. So, passing the first house, an uninvited chill passing down my back, I went to the neighbor's house, where Booth stood with several policemen. Their cars were parked in front, lights on and the officers were busying themselves with carrying plastic bags out of the house.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"There was an anonymous phone call reporting a possible burglary. Cops came to investigate and found... this," Booth said, gesturing inside.

I stepped inside, noting the well-furnished living room, decorated with fine pieces of art, but despite the beauty, there was something still strangely grotesque about the place. I also noted that all of the windows were covered with thick curtains. That may have been adding to the bizarre look of the room.

Booth led me past this room and past an equally decorated bedroom to a closet door. I'm very intelligent and caught on quickly to the fact that this was _supposed_ to look like a closet. So, gingerly, I knocked on the wall and heard it was hollow.

"I got it," Booth said and with a little effort opened the wall, revealing a hidden room. I stopped before entering, staring inside with a look of disbelief. Pictures covered the walls; pictures people I didn't know and of Zack and his family, all of which looked like were taken from a distance. There was a desk at the end of the room with a TV sitting on it. Beside the desk were piles of video tapes.

"The door was open when the cops came in," Booth said, looking at me.

"What is this?" I asked.

"I did a background check on the owner of this house... turns out it was bought years ago by Gormogon. He purchased it with a fake name and then bought the house beside it."

"What for?" I asked, observing each photo carefully. Several of them had been taken from within the Jeffersonian. Seeing this made my blood boil.

"This is where he did most of his... cannibalism-related work," Booth said, eyeing photos of skeletons (like you might see in a hospital or doctor's office).

Booth didn't answer my question, but instead pressed a button on the TV, which immediately began playing a tape. I turned and watched, recognizing it as a tape of Zack's family, who were apparently being observed without their knowledge.

"Gormogon was watching his family?" I asked in bewilderment.

Booth nodded.

"But why?" I asked.

"Don't know," he said with a sigh. "But this isn't all I brought you here for. There's something else."

"What is it?"

"They found traces of blood... Zack's," Booth said.

I stared at him for only a moment, my heart suddenly racing. "Where? How much?"

"Barely enough to fill a teaspoon," Booth said, allowing me to relax a little bit, "but it's fresh."

"Fresh?" I asked, suddenly feeling a little lighter inside.

"About 12 hours," Booth said.

"He was here," I said, looking around the room with new purpose. "I'm calling Hodgins," I said at last, grabbing my phone and dialing in his number.

"I'll call in Sweets," Booth said, which made me turn to him and give him a puzzled look.

"Why?" I asked.

"He might find some... psychology stuff we're missing," Booth said.

I rolled my eyes, but allowed him to continue dialing the number. Besides, I wanted all the help we could get. I just wanted all of this to be over and to get Zack back.

I held the phone to my ear as it rang multiple times, but there was no answer. Eventually, I hung up and dialed Angela's number. It rang for a few minutes, but eventually Angela's voice answered over the phone.

"Hello?"

"Angela, it's me. I can't get a hold of Hodgins. Would you call him for me?"

"Sure. Did you guys find something?"

"We found where the kidnappers were holding Zack," I said.

"You did? Where?" she asked urgently.

"Next door to Gormogon's house," I said, gritting my teeth.

There was a pause on the other end, then; "What?"

"I'll explain later, please just call Hodgins. I need him over here as soon as possible."

"Okay, I'm not it," Angela said and then hung up.

* * *

The news was as thrilling as it was worrisome in Angela's mind. They found one of the places he had been kept, yes, but he was still out there and the longer he remained missing the more frightening thoughts entered her mind. She tried to shake them off, to not think about it, but they were persistent, reappearing in her mind more frightening than before.

Angela went through the Jeffersonian in a hurried rush until she came to Hodgin's desk, where he sat looking at some invisible particles through a microscope.

"Why aren't you answering your phone?" she asked angrily.

Hodgins looked up at her in surprise, thought about the question, and then looked around himself. He patted his pockets, looked at her again and then smiled weakly. "I um... I think I left it in my car."

"Well Brennan's been trying to call. They've got a lead and they want you over there ASAP."

"A lead?" Hodgins asked excitedly, standing.

"At the house next to Gormogon's," she said.

"No way."

"Way. They want you down there as soon as possible."

"I'm going," Hodgins said, grabbing his coat and heading for the door.

Angela watched him leave for a second until a beeping caused her to look down at her watch. "Finally," she said, thankful to finally be on break. She hadn't been able to help much with finding Zack and standing around the Jeffersonian doing nothing was the last thing she wanted to be doing.

She went to her office, grabbed her coat and then went down to the parking garage. She walked down the lot, her high heels clanking loudly when someone called her name.

"Ms. Montenegro," someone said.

Angela turned to find a man standing behind her. It took her a moment, but she was finally able to recognize the face.

"Samson Coles?" she asked in disbelief.

The man smiled and walked up to her.

"C-can I help you?" she asked, momentarily stunned at having met him down in the garage only a few hours after having discussed him with Brennan.

"Yes, you can," Samson said, stopping about a foot away from her and smiling friendlily. "I understand Dr. Brennan has come to you about the Coles Case."

"Your parent's death, yes. I'm so sorry, by the way," she said sympathetically.

"That's in the past," Samson said dismissively. "I'm not actually here about that."

Angela stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I'm here because Dr. Brennan made a very terrible mistake."

"Mistake? Brennan doesn't make mistakes," Angela said with a little smile.

"She has this time. See, I gave her very specific instructions not to involve anyone concerning me. Seems though she's decided to ignore my warnings, so this puts me in a pickle."

Angela stared at him, suddenly becoming aware of the danger she was now finding herself in. Instinctively, she stepped back, only to have Samson step forward.

"Unfortunately for you, I have to show Dr. Brennan that I mean business and now I'm going to have to show _you_ I mean business. I understand you're intimately familiar with Dr. Hodgins."

"Was," Angela said.

"Was, are, either way the feelings are there, whether you admit them to yourself or not. The point is that now I'm going to have to keep you in line... and I think I've found a way to do it." He paused for a second, and then continued, "I did some reading about the Grave Digger. It must have been so terrifying to have been buried alive. I can't imagine Dr. Hodgins would want to go through that a second time."

Angela froze, fear suddenly gripping her heart more tightly. "If you do _anything_ to Hodgins..."

"That's entirely up to you, Ms. Montenegro. You keep what you've found between you and Dr. Brennan and Hodgins will be fine. He won't have to relive that nightmare. But... do anything that I don't like... I can't guarantee that you'll find Hodgins like you did the last time."

Angela swallowed, remembering the fear he had shown after having been rescued from that buried car. He had cried... she had never seen him cry before and it had broken her heart.

"Alright, now that that's been cleared up there's one more thing I have to do," Samson said, disrupting her thoughts. He pulled a gun out from his coat pocket and pointed it at her. "If you'll come this way."

Angela stared at the gun for a moment in sheer horror and then obediently began walking in the direction Samson Coles was leading her.

He took her to a staircase, where they both stood at the top for a moment.

"To everyone but Brennan, say you slipped and Hodgins will be fine; say you were pushed and... I think you know what will happen," he said and then he pushed her.

* * *

**I am on a roll!! I'm writing like the wind, so the next update soon be very soon! =D**


	9. Fear and Fractures

**Well, here's the next chapter and the plot thickens!! lol. =P I had oddly more trouble writing this chapter, but I did it eventually. Haha. Enjoy!

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**

Sweets arrived at the scene first and viewed the room with a kind of disgusted interest. He studied the pictures for a moment, the layout of the room and then turned to Booth and I with a frown.

"Well..." he said with a sigh, "As you can see from some of the pictures he was obviously stalking Zack for a long time. Profiling him for a potential apprentice. What I don't understand is the photos of his family. These photos were taken a little less discreetly, but discreet, nonetheless. It doesn't make sense that he was stalking Zack's family, too. This kind of behavior would suggest an unusual interest in a person, but that wasn't Gormogon's thing. He was just looking for an apprentice..."

"So why the pictures of the family," Booth completed.

Sweets nodded. "Cases where pictures like these are taken are usually in kidnapping cases, where they study the schedule of the family to determine a good time to take their victim."

"Or when the bad guy is hunting his victims," Booth added.

"Yes, or that."

"So what's your opinion?" Booth asked.

Sweets looked back at the photos for a moment, then at Booth, back at the photos, then at Booth again before shrugging helplessly. "I don't really know. This doesn't really fit into Gormogon's psych profile."

Suddenly someone entered the room. We all turned.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. I left my phone in my car," Hodgins said as he stepped into the room and looked around interestedly.

"It's fine. Just get outside and gather samples from the garage floor. We might be able to get some particles from what their vehicle has been driven on," I said dismissively.

"I'll do my best," Hodgins said and was about to turn and leave, but stopped when he saw the pictures on the wall. "Hey... isn't that Zack's... family?"

"Yes," I said.

"Why-"

"We're working on it," Booth said.

Hodgins nodded and then left to gather samples.

"Okay, Sweets, what else can you tell us?" Booth asked, sighing and putting his hands on his hips.

Sweets looked around the room for a moment. "There are pictures of his other apprentices taken with the same discretion as to those of Zack's, but not of _their_ families. Which make these pictures even _more_ interesting. May I see the tapes, please?"

Booth nodded and pressed play on the tape we had been watching earlier. Sweets watched intently, his eyes never leaving the screen.

Further along into the tape, we discovered that this was _not_ a tape of observation made by Gormogon, but an Addy home video. To Booth's embarrassment, he had just happened onto a tape where Zack's uncle had been recording secretly in order to capture either more embarrassing or more intimate moments.

"That's what happens when you rely on conjecture," I said.

"The way that part was recorded suggested that someone was watching them from a discreet distance," Booth argued.

"And they were, but you immediately assumed it was Gormogon."

"I think that's an understandable conclusion. Look around!" Booth said, raising his arms and gesturing around.

"Can we just focus, please?" I asked.

Booth frowned and seemed to be about to argue further, but eventually he backed down and looked at the tape again.

"So... we've got home videos and photos," Sweets said thoughtfully.

Eventually we decided to do a little brainstorming later, so we had pictures taken of everything, and everything bagged and taken to the Jeffersonian for closer examination. Meanwhile, Hodgins had finished gathering samples from outside and seemed very pleased.

"Look what I found," he said as I came out of the house. "Mud!" he said happily. "I can use it to see where our kidnappers have been."

"Excellent work, Hodgins. Get back to the lab and start analyzing that immediately," I said.

Hodgins nodded excitedly, happy to be doing work that could potentially bring Zack back.

As I walked back to my car, my phone started ringing. At first, I considered not answering it, knowing that the likelyhood that it was Bishop was high. I brought my phone out of my bag and looked at the number calling. I didn't recognize it, which alerted me further. Again, I thought of ignoring it, but in the end, I eventually answered with an angry tone. "Hello?"

"Hello, Dr. Temperance Brennan? I'm calling from the hospital on the behalf of a Ms. Angela Montenegro. She's been injured and is asking for you."

"Injured?" I asked. "How?"

"Apparently she slipped down some stairs, ma'am and broke her arm."

"Is it serious?" I asked.

"No, not very. Just some minor fractures."

"Good. Please tell her I'll be on my way," I said and then hung up and headed for the car.

* * *

It didn't actually take me long to get to the hospital and when I did I was immediately directed to where Angela was being cared for. She was sitting in one of the room, looking down at the floor with a kind of distant expression that concerned me. She had a cast on her left arm. From what I could tell from the x-rays on the wall to the left of where she sat, it looked like the doctors' opinion was accurate; just a few minor fractures.

When I actually entered the room Angela looked up and smiled weakly. "Hey, Brennan," she said, her voice low.

"What happened, Angela? The doctor said you slipped down some stairs," I said, going over to her and observing the cast on her arm carefully; just to make sure they had done it correctly.

"That's what I told them... but..." Angela said, and then stopped, biting her bottom lip.

I looked up at her, my concern suddenly growing. "What's wrong, Ange?"

She looked at me and I could see fear in her eyes. "You know the Coles case you were showing me this morning?"

"Yes," I said.

"Well... I went down to the parking garage and... someone was behind me, so I turned around. It was Samson Coles."

My heart stopped for a moment.

Angela continued; "He told me you made a mistake by telling me about him. He... he.... threatened to... bury Hodgins alive like the Grave Digger did if I said anything to anybody else. Then he had a gun and he led me to some stairs and pushed me."

I just stared at her, anger once again pushing its way to the surface of my being.

"He said to keep what you found out about him between you and me," Angela said, looking at me as I struggled to contain my emotions.

"Brennan?" she asked after a long moment of silence, staring at me concernedly. "Brennan, who is this guy?"

I looked up at her, letting out a long breath. I then gave Angela a brief sum-up of my dealings with Bishop thus far. She nodded and listened and gasped as I spoke, throwing out only a few questions occasionally.

It was nice to tell this to someone else. It also allowed me to sort through some of my own thoughts and questions.

"So... why is he doing this?" Angela asked after I had finished.

I shrugged. "He won't say. I've asked him."

"Are you going to tell Booth?"

"No, not until I have something over him. That's actually why I came to you. I was hoping maybe we could find out who he is and get an advantage over him somehow, but according to records he's been dead for years."

"So who is he now?" Angela asked. "And why isn't there any current record of him?"

We thought for a moment silently.

"Booth could probably find him," Angela said.

"I'm not involving Booth yet," I said.

"Brennan, this guy pushed me down some stairs, threatened Hodgins and kidnapped Zack. What more reason do you need to include Booth?" she asked.

I was about to protest again when a thought suddenly came into my mind. "Wait a minute... did you see him in the Jeffersonian parking garage?"

"Yeah, where else?"

"We have cameras down there, Angela... we can use that to get a warrant out for him and bring him in! Then he'll have to tell us where Zack is!" I said excitedly.

Angela's spirits lifted and she became excited as well. "Are you going to call Booth now?" she asked.

"Not until I have the tape," I said. "Is it okay if I go?"

"Honey, you go and get that tape," Angela said.

I smiled and quickly ran out of the hospital, a new hope rising inside of me.

* * *

I'm usually an excellent driver, but on the way to the Jeffersonian, my driving was a little hectic in my hurry and excitement. By the time I got to the Jeffersonian I was practically giddy, which was saying a lot for me, but I kept my emotions in check as I entered the lab and walked to the security room.

When I got there, I was greeted by the faces of several of the security staff, who seemed both surprised and nervous at seeing me there.

"Good morning, Dr. Brennan," one of the officers said.

"Morning," I said disinterestedly. "Can you show me the security feed from one hour ago down in the parking garage?"

"Why?" the officer asked curiously.

"Just do it," I said impatiently.

"Sure, sure thing," he said and then rewound the security feed. He didn't rewind for very long before the screen glitched slightly and I already knew that the video wouldn't be there. He had somehow gotten rid of it... in an hour? That wasn't possible. There was no way he could have disposed of the video without someone having seen him.

"Wait... go back," I said.

The officer looked at me curiously, but did as I asked and fast forwarded.

"Stop," I said as it came to the glitch.

"What is it?" he asked confusedly.

"That car," I said, "in the back corner. It's gone after the glitch."

The officer looked at me with surprise, then at the tape. "Huh. That's weird."

"No, it isn't. This feed is looped," I said angrily.

"That's not possible, ma'am. We've been here the whole time," the officer said reassuringly. "I'm sure it's just what it looks like; a glitch."

I looked at him as though he were an idiot, but then quickly changed my expression. "Yes. That's probably what it is," I said, then stood and left to go back to my office without a word, thinking over my findings thoughtfully. The tape was looped, but he hadn't been anywhere near it to tamper with it, so how had he done it? _Booth would know_, I said to myself. I thought about what Angela had said and wondered if I _should_ tell Booth. Should I? I didn't want to risk involving anyone else if it meant that it would hurt them, but it was becoming painfully clear how much I needed Booth's help on this.

Suddenly my phone rang. Without really thinking about it, I answered it unwarily. "Hello?"

"Did you think I would leave video of myself?"

I stopped in my tracks.

"How is Ms. Montenegro?" Bishop asked.

"She has minor fractures on her forearm."

"Minor? That's a relief," he said, and I would have yelled at him then if he hadn't continued, "Can we meet again tonight? 7:00. I'm sure there is a lot on your mind that you would like to tell me. You can bring Ms. Montenegro, if you'd like. Thanks to you she's now very much involved in this."

I bit down my strong desire to yell and curse at him right then and there, but instead said through gritted teeth, "I'll be there."


	10. Blackmail

**Sorry about how long it took to update this. I got busier than I anticipated after I updated the last chapter and gave you guys false hopes about quick updates. lol. Sorry about that. I also apologize for the small chapter, but in the grand scheme of the story, this is a BIG chapter. Teehee. I hope you enjoy and please feel free to leave a comment if I overlooked anything. I'll try and find a way to make it make sense if I can. Haha.

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**

7:00 rolled by quickly as I sat at the Royal Café, thinking of all of the things I would say once Bishop showed up; all of the things I wanted to do... and just might. I couldn't take much more of this. I was ready to get Zack back and I was ready to put this guy behind bars; like we always did.

As I expected, he didn't actually reveal himself until an hour later when he was suddenly sitting beside me, taking sips from a half-empty mug of his regular coffee.

"I don't see why you come here. The coffee is terrible," Bishop said, grimacing as he took another sip from the mug.

I just stared at him. It took everything I had to keep from punching him in the face. How could act so casual after what he'd done? What he was _still_ doing?

After a few seconds of silence, Bishop looked at me. "I can't imagine you're very happy right now, but I'm not here to talk about Angela, who I noticed you didn't bring. That's a shame. I was hoping to talk to her again. Oh, well. Later, I guess. Anyway, what I brought you here for was to talk about what you found at the house next to Gormogon's. I understand you made quite a discovery."

I bit the insides of my mouth before speaking to control myself; "Gormogon bought both houses."

"Interesting. Why do you think he did that?"

"Why don't you tell me?" I asked angrily.

"I'm not the forensic scientist, Temperance. How would I know?"

I stared at him for a second thoughtfully. "I remember your parents' case, you know. The man who killed your family was... psychotic."

Bishop smiled. "If you're trying to get some sort of reaction from me, Dr. Brennan, I can assure you that you won't get it. The past is past. Sampson died with his family."

"You aren't dead."

"I meant it metaphorically."

"I don't understand those."

"So I see, but the point remains the same."

"Sweets would probably say you have a lot of psychological issues if he were here."

"I'm sure he would," Bishop said. "But back to what I actually asked you here to talk about. Tell me about the room you found."

I was about to ask how he knew about the room, but realized he had known about practically everything I had been doing, so didn't bother. "It was filled with photos of his apprentices, victims, and of Zack's family... just Zack's."

"Interesting. Why do you think he only had pictures of Zack's family?"

I thought for a moment. I had been struggling with that question for a while, but I couldn't come up with anything. Why would he have those pictures? What was the purpose? I knew why he had all of the other pictures in the room, but those didn't fit.

"Come on, Temperance, why would Gormogon have those pictures? What was their value? You were close, Temperance. Very close to catching him and he knew it."

"He needed to stop me," I said. "He used Zack to get on the inside."

"Think about Zack for a minute," Bishop pressed.

"I... I was his... mentor... I taught him... He listened to me and respected me... he..." I stopped, feeling a lump forming in my throat.

"He loved you," Bishop finished.

I felt a tear slip from the lid of my eyes and slide down my cheek.

"You know him. He would _never_ have betrayed you... so why did he? What could possibly make him betray _you_?"

I racked my brain, trying to suppress the feelings that were boiling up inside of me. He loved me. I know he did. So why did he do it?

"What could he possibly have considered more important, Temperance?" Bishop asked.

Then it hit me. "His family."

Bishop smiled.

"If they had been in trouble... he would have done it... betrayed me. He was being blackmailed... but why didn't he say anything? Why did he confess to murder?"

"That's a good question. Why on earth would he do that _after_ Gormogon was dead?" Bishop asked, gently pushing my thoughts along.

"He wouldn't have unless... he was _still_ being blackmailed," I said, shocked at my own conclusion.

Bishop patted my shoulder. "Have a good day, Dr. Brennan," he said, then stood, paid, and left me sitting there in horror.

He was being blackmailed... was _still_ being blackmailed... which could only mean that there was someone else who had influence over him; someone other than Gormogon... An accomplice. That just... wasn't possible. How could he have had an accomplice? Who? And they were still out there. Zack's family was still in trouble. He confessed to protect them. The horror of the thought hit me like a punch in the stomach. He was... innocent. The thought kept echoing in her head. _He was innocent... he was innocent..._

Without even thinking about it, I got to my feet and sped out of the café, moving with determination to my car. Innocent. Innocent! Why didn't he ask me for help? I wondered. Why didn't he tell us? Especially after Gormogon had been killed. We could have helped him. None of this would have happened. None of it. He would still be working at the Jeffersonian. He would still be... with me. A new fire began to well up inside me. Someone had kept Zack from telling the truth, made him do everything that he did and they were going to pay.

I quickly jumped into my car and headed to the Jeffersonian.

* * *

**Gasp!!! lol. See I would have been very happy with this if they had done this in the show... but NO!!! They had to go off and get rid of him like idiots! I'm still praying, though. PLEASE PLEASE bring him back! As before, I will try to update soon. I'm sorry if I fail miserably. Comments are actually very helpful in keeping me to update. They're very motivational. So lots of those are appreciated. :P**


	11. The Envelope

**I'm sorry I've taken so long to update. I had writers block (AGAIN!!!) and a bunch of personal things going on, but here it is now and I made it extra long to make up for lost time. lol

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**

I was angry... no... I was furious. I hadn't experienced this kind of rage in a long time and I welcomed it; the shreds of hope from knowing that Zack could be saved; could come back, was making me race down the Jeffersonian halls with relentless determination. If there was a chance to save Zack and get him back to his old life, I would take it, no matter what the cost.

I marched straight into the FBI building and into Booth's office, where he sat reviewing some folders on his desk. When he saw me, he looked up and put a folder back down onto the desk. "Hey, Bones."

"Zack was blackmailed," I said.

Booth stared at me for a moment, almost as though he didn't hear me. He looked like he was trying to let it sink in and when it did, he said; "What?"

"The pictures in that room of Zack's family. Zack's family was being threatened. He was forced to do everything he did."

"Wouldn't you call that conjecture?" Booth asked.

"Just trust me on this, Booth. Zack would _never_ have betrayed us like that unless he didn't have a choice."

"Why didn't he tell us after Gormohueey was dead?"

"I think he's _still_ being blackmailed. There's someone else out there... another apprentice maybe, that's threatening him and made him take the fall."

"That's a workable idea," Booth said, looking down at his desk thoughtfully as he formed the whole scene in his head. "What brought this up?"

I paused, considering whether or not I should now tell him about Bishop and everything that had happened since I had received that first phone call. Bishop had hurt Angela when I even hinted at him, but he could have hacked the security system in the Jeffersonian. He couldn't do that to the FBI headquarters... could he? And if he did, what would he do? Booth was an FBI agent. Keeping Booth "in line" wouldn't be as easy as it had been with Angela... but then, maybe he wouldn't do _anything_. Over the course of our meetings, I was continuously changing my mind about this man's motives. For a minute, it would look like he was helping me, and then the next he would push one of my friends down a flight of stairs. After a moment of consideration I decided again to wait until I had more information. "It was the most plausible reason for the pictures... and everything that happened," I said, adding the last bit hesitantly.

"Let's look into it," Booth said, standing. "I think we should start by questioning Zack's family... see if they noticed anybody around or anything out of the ordinary."

I nodded in agreement.

"So if there _is_ somebody out there blackmailing Zack, who do you think it is? He had to work for Gorma... you know."

"Did Gormogon have family?" I asked.

Booth shook his head. "No. Like Sweets said; he was a nobody."

"Although this is pure conjecture which I am usually against, it _is_ a possibility we should consider; what if there's another apprentice?" I asked.

"Wait, wait, wait," Booth said, rubbing his temple, "Bones, are you suggesting that there might be _another_ Gormageddon cannibal out there?"

"I believe that's what I just said," I stated confusedly. Wasn't he listening?

"I thought Gormo... Gormogooey only had _one_ apprentice."

"He did."

"Wasn't Zack that apprentice?"

"If my theory is right, then no, he wasn't."

Booth paused for a moment, thinking it over in his head. After a few moments, I could see the realization in his eyes.

"Gormo... ugh, him, knew you were close to catching him, so he had to get an inside man."

"He thought he could seduce Zack using logic," I continued.

"But it didn't work, so he had to go with plan B."

"Which involved blackmail."

"Which means that Zack _wasn't_ his apprentice and that he had to get a _real_ apprentice someplace else," Booth finished.

"I would have thought, though, that the other apprentice would have shown up by now," I said ponderingly.

"He's probably lying low for now," Booth said. "He doesn't want to draw our attention."

"Then how do we find him? We don't even know where to start."

Booth paused in thought for a moment, putting his hands on his hips and pushing his coat back. "I'll check the database and see who our guy was working with, knew, met, anybody he came in contact with. If I can't find anything there, we should go take a visit to Zack's family; see if they've noticed anyone odd around."

"Okay. I'm going to have Hodgins look again at Gormogon's house."

"What for?"

"If Gormogon had another apprentice he might have brought him there, which means he had to have left some sort of particulates behind."

"Okay, you and your squints go do your thing," Booth said.

I nodded and headed out the door.

* * *

Booth got to work immediately, making calls, checking records and going through countless files. If there was another Gormogon killer, he wanted to catch him _before_ he came out of hiding and killed someone. But the first hours of his efforts were fruitless; no one seemed to know who he was talking about and Gormogon didn't seem to socialize with many people. The few people that did know him thought he was a creep and stayed away from him.

He sat in front of his computer with his hand on his forehead, staring at the screen in dismay. He was at a loss. Where else could he look? If there was another apprentice (which he was slowly beginning to doubt) he had managed to stay completely under the radar. There were no tracks to follow.

Booth felt an ache in his heart. What was he going to tell Bones if he couldn't find this guy? Or worse... if this guy didn't exist; if there _was_ no other Gormogon apprentice and Zack really _was_ the apprentice? He didn't want to break her heart a second time. He remembered how much that had hurt her. She might not have shown it, but he could see it, in the way she worked, the way she looked, the way she talked. For a long time she had been careful to avoid conversations about him and couldn't hear his name without lowering her eyes. He couldn't let that happen again.

A knock on his office door broke him from his train of thought to look up at the agent standing just outside the door's threshold.

"Hey, Booth. Got something for you," the agent said, entering the room and extending a yellow envelope out to him.

"What is it?" Booth asked, taking it and looking it over.

"Don't know. It only had your name printed on the top corner. See?"

Booth looked at the corner and spotted his name on the corner where the agent said it would be.

"Thanks," he said and the other agent nodded and left the room. When he had gone, Booth undid the fold and reached inside, pulling out several pictures. He observed them carefully, noting the stalker-like quality. One man was consistent in all of the pictures; dark brown hair, 5'5, Caucasian, around 28 years old. The pictures varied from him sitting at a coffee shop having breakfast, to reading the newspaper, at his apparent job as a bank teller, to sitting on the bench reading a newspaper. On the top corner of each of the pictures was the emblem of a chess piece.

"What the hell is this?" Booth said to himself, going through the pictures. He looked inside the envelope again, but found nothing else; only the pictures. He stared at them for a long time; trying to figure out what on earth they were for, who had sent them and why the sender had refused to reveal themselves. He had received only one mysterious package in the past, and that had had a little boy's finger in it. He felt a shiver go up his spine at the thought of it and quickly pushed it from his mind.

He stood up, putting all of the pictures back into the envelope and left his office, heading off to the Jeffersonian.

Where was he? It had been hours since we had last talked. Did he find something? Did he find the killer? These questions buzzed in my mind as I tried to get on with my normal work. I was studying 2,000 year old skeletal remains. Although normally I would have given this my undivided attention, I found myself unable to focus. I wanted to help find Zack. I _needed_ to help find him... and he needed me. I shoved the thoughts aside, reprimanding myself for my lapse in my normal professional demeanor. I had work to do.

Besides, this was actually a fascinating case in front of me. The skeletal remains were from a thirteen year old female whose death I had yet to determine. I always did love puzzles, and when certain information was missing from the remains I was examining, I usually got excited and eager to discover what was eluding me. But I couldn't think. I couldn't focus on the task at hand and I felt almost clueless as to where to start on the remains; like I was a brand new intern, just come to work.

I sighed in frustration and stood upright, as I had been bending over the remains to observe them, and stretched my back.

"You okay, sweety?"

I looked around and saw Angela standing outside of the door, looking at me concernedly.

"Yes. Why?" I asked, dismissing the thoughts that had just been pestering my mind.

"Look, it's okay to be worried. We all loved-"

"Love," I quickly corrected. "_Loved_ would suggest either death or betrayal, neither of which is true."

Angela smiled gently. "Right. Love Zack. We're all worried, but you really shouldn't be burying yourself in your work. I mean, Zack was... special to you."

"_Is_," I corrected again. "He is a very talented individual and the Jeffersonian could use his services again."

"No, Brennan," Angela said, "He wasn't some intern who did a good job in his work. He was special to _you_. Personally."

I stared at the floor, unable to get my logical mind back into focus. It was getting blurred by something else.

"He was being blackmailed, Angela," I said.

"What?"

"There's another Gormogon apprentice," I said, looking up at her at last, "Who was threatening Zack's family. They _used_ him to stop me. Why didn't I see it? It makes logical sense. Zack would never... _never_ have betrayed the Jeffersonian like that. Never. And the story he told me back at the hospital, when we found out... I knew something was off about it, but I didn't realize."

"Brennan, none of this is your fault," Angela said, coming into the room and putting a hand gently on my shoulder.

"He looks up to me. He never did _anything_ he didn't think I would approve of. He knew how hard we were working to get Gormogon. Why didn't I see it, Angela?" I asked and suddenly felt tears come to my eyes. "I'm supposed to take care of him. I _could_ have helped him, if I had only seen it. None of this... _none_ of it... would have ever happened."

"Oh, sweety, it's not your fault," Angela said, finally embracing me into a hug. "There was no way you could have seen it."

"Someone _did_ see it, though... and I didn't. Bishop saw it."

Angela didn't say anything, but stroked my hair gently.

"Come on, Brennan. We should get you something to eat," Angela said sweetly. "How about a starbucks?"

"No," I said, sniffling a little. "I should get back to work."

She sighed. "So... what do you know about this other apprentice?" she asked at last, having realized that I was going to work either way and going through the facts might be helpful.

"Nothing! We don't know _anything_! We... we don't even know if there _is _one for certain. I was going on speculation, which is not a reliable science. I could be wrong. Maybe there _isn't_ another apprentice and maybe Zack really did do it and maybe Bishop is just... tugging my chain."

"It's _yanking_. Not tugging. Yanking my chain."

"Oh," I said, although I didn't particularly care at this point.

"Brennan, everything is going to be okay," Angela assured me.

"You can't know that. Something could happen. We might... never get Zack back."

"Wow. I've never heard you so pessimistic," Hodgins said, suddenly coming into the world.

I quickly went over my eyes to make sure there were no tears left behind.

"Trust me, we're going to find Zack," Hodgins said and then chuckled slightly. "I mean, it's us. We always get our bad guy."

"Yes, but usually _after_ someone has been murdered," I reminded.

"Booth found us when we were buried alive by the Grave Digger. If he could find us then, we can definitely find Zack."

I thought for a moment. "We... have solved numerous cases that likely would never have been solved without us."

"Yeah and Zack's a smart kid. I bet he's been leaving clues that... maybe we're just missing because we're worried. But I'm going to do something for Zack; I am going to go over every bit of evidence we have again and again until I find something," Hodgins said resolutely.

"And I'm going to go to identify somebody who you need identified," Angela said, gesturing at me to indicate that she was being secretive.

I wasn't following. "Who?"

"Just somebody."

"Okay… well, I'll look through all of the Gormogon files again. Maybe there's something I missed."

Hodgins smiled, although I could see that he was still worried. I could see it in Angela, too. Even Saroyan was a bit off. Like me, she had been having difficulty focusing on her tasks. The Jeffersonian had almost come to a standstill.

Suddenly Booth came into the room, looking a little disoriented. The three of us looked at him as he entered.

"There you are, Bones!" he exclaimed. "I've been looking all over for you."

"Why didn't you call?" I asked.

"I'm not going to call you in the same building," Booth said. "I just… couldn't find what room you were in."

"Well, did you find anything?" I asked anxiously.

"I… don't really know. Someone sent me an envelope full of pictures of a Caucasian male. I'm going to run it through the database and then maybe see if the Addy's recognize this guy."

"What are you doing here, then?" Hodgins asked.

"I came to get Bones. Come on," he said.

"Wait, we could just check the database here. Angela, can you run Booth's photos through the FBI databases?"

"Sure," Angela said, taking the envelope from Booth and opening it to look at the pictures. When she did, she looked at me nervously. "Brennan, do you want to see?" she asked suspiciously.

"Why?" I asked.

"Just look," she said, holding up one of the pictures for me to see.

At first, I wondered if maybe something was wrong with her, but then my eye caught the chess piece emblem at the top right corner. It was of a bishop.

"Who sent you these pictures, Booth?" I asked.

"I don't know. Why? What's going on?" he asked, suddenly noticing that both Angela and I seemed to get tense.

"Did anything else come with it?" I asked.

"No, why? Bones, what's wrong?" Booth asked concernedly.

"Oh… um… I was just wondering um… if it had anything to do with Zack," I said quickly.

Booth stared at me for a moment before he answered. "Um… that's what I was wondering. That's why I'm going to run it through the database."

"Then what are we doing standing here? Go, go run those pictures through, Angela!" I said, ushering everyone out of the room quickly, hope once again rising within me.

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**I think I may be nearing the end here. Kind of short, I know, but I wasn't aiming to make a novel. lol I hope you all enjoyed!! Also, I'd like to thank everyone for their reviews, but a special thanks to "i love you like whoa" for getting me back on track. :) Your review really got me writing again. :)**


	12. Curt Woods

**Hey, everyone! I'm sorry I took so long. Fanfiction wasn't letting me upload any documents on my computer! I'm sorry this chapter is short, but I wanted to upload so that you guys know I am still working on this story.

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Booth and I arrived at Zack's aunt's and uncle's house after a two-hour drive. I wasn't sure how, but they had apparently heard the news about Zack having gone missing and were more than thrilled to see Booth and I.

"Have you found him yet?" Zack's aunt asked concernedly, hugging a child with each arm tightly.

"No, we haven't," I said.

"That's actually why we're here," Booth said. "We'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Anything to help find him," the uncle said.

"First of all, I wanted to ask if you've seen this man," Booth said, raising one of the photos from the envelope he had been sent for them to see.

To be honest, I hadn't expected this trip to be of much use. I had doubted that Zack's family would be aware of anything that was going on, which only added to my surprise with their faces lit up with recognition at the sight of the man on the photo.

"That's Curt," the uncle said.

"Curt?" Booth asked, seeming as surprised as I was that they had recognized him. We hadn't gotten a facial match yet and showing them the picture had been a long-shot, since we weren't sure it was connected to Zack's disappearance at all.

"Yeah. Curt Woods. He lives down the street."

"You're kidding," Booth said.

"I don't think they are, Booth," I said.

"That's not... never mind. Do you know the house number? We'd really like to talk to him," Booth said, putting the photo in his coat pocket.

"Yeah. Lives in that house down there," the uncle said, pointing down the road, "in 237."

"Thanks," Booth said. "We'll contact you as soon as we find Zack."

"Thank you, Agent Booth," the uncle said.

"Dr. Brennan?" the aunt said.

I turned to her. "Yes?"

"You know... Zack always talked so highly of you... so could you do me a favor?"

I nodded.

"Please be there, when you find him. It would make him so happy to see you."

"I will," I said and I meant it.

Booth smiled and then waved to them. When they had closed the door and we began heading over to Curt Woods' house, he turned to me. "So... what are the odds that the guy we're looking for lives down the street?"

"Well... to put it in your words, that would be _a freaky coincidence_," I said with a smile. "What do you think the connection is?" I asked. Normally I wouldn't have, since anything he said would just be guess work, but at this point, my eagerness to find Zack had taken precedence over instinct and logistics.

Booth shrugged. "I don't know. How about we find out?"

We walked up to the door of the house and Booth rang the doorbell. Then, putting his hands in his pockets, we waited for an answer.

The answer we got was the sound of the back door opening.

Immediately, Booth brought out his gun and began running around the back of the house. Following suit, I went around the other side cautiously, feeling my pulse quicken. I hurried around to the back in time to see Booth beginning to give chase to a man running down the alley behind his house.

Without a thought, I went back around to the front and then began running down the road, planning to meet him at the end of the alley. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, knowing that if this man got away, I might never see Zack again. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't fail him again.

With speed I didn't even know I had, I arrived at the end of the alley just in time to come face to face with the man that had been running. Immediately, I raised my arm and hit him in the face with my elbow, sending him flailing backwards onto his back. Once he was down, I stepped on his neck with the heel of my shoe and pressed carefully. Then I knelt down.

"Where is Zack?" I asked angrily.

The man stared up at me groggily, blood from his now broken nose started to pour down the rest of his face.

"Bones!" Booth yelled as he caught up. "Nice shot."

"Thank you," I said, staring down at the moaning man beneath my shoe.

Booth pulled out his cell and called for backup, but I hardly noticed. I was looking at the man responsible for everything that had happened to Zack. It was thanks to this man and Gormogon that Zack had been stolen from me, but there was a difference: Gormogon had gotten what he deserved... this man hadn't. Not only that, but he had made them all suffer to keep Zack quiet.

I subconsciously began to press my heel down harder, making him gag. The noise startled Booth enough to look around and see what I was doing.

"Bones!" he yelled, grabbing my arms and trying to pull me off of Curt before I stabbed my heel clean through his throat, but I fought him, the anger and rage of everything that had happened to my Zack welling up with sudden passion and intensity.

"Let me go!" I shouted angrily, still lashing out at Curt.

"Bones! Bones! Stop!" Booth said, turning me around to look into his eyes. He brushed my cheek slightly and made direct eye contact. "We got him, Bones. Okay? It's all going to be okay..." he soothed.

Normally, I would have protested, knowing that he couldn't possibly know whether or not things were going to be alright, but no words would come. Instead, I felt tears stream down my face. Without even realizing what I was doing, I fell into Booth's arms, letting the tears fall slowly down my cheeks onto his suit.

He hugged me gently while still keeping a watchful eye on Curt, but he wasn't going anywhere. My hit had been enough to completely disorient him and he stared at the sky with a stunned daze. By the time the police arrived, he had just barely started to wake from his stupor.

I watched two officers escort Curt to one of the police vehicles, wiping away what was left of the tears from my cheeks. Booth came to stand beside me after having told the officers what had happened.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly.

He gave me a curious look. "For what?"

I shook my head. "For getting so... emotional. I don't... normally do that."

"Don't apologize. It's okay. People get emotional. People cry."

"You've never cried," I said.

"Yeah, but I'm a man. Men don't cry," Booth said simply.

"Yes, they do," I said. "I've seen Hodgins cry."

"I said _men_ don't cry. I'm not talking about squints."

"Hodgins is just as much of a man as you are. You both have the same genitalia."

"Whoa, whoa," Booth said, raising his hands and looking around nervously. "Let's not start talking about my privates in public, okay?"

"Why?" I asked confusedly.  
"Because people could hear," Booth whispered.

"Why does that matter? Everyone has-"

"Can we just... drop this?" Booth asked uncomfortably, straightening his jacket.

I nodded, although I didn't understand why he got so upset about this sort of thing. It was basic anatomy. With a little roll of my eyes to myself, I followed Booth to the car, anticipating eagerly the looming interrogation with Curt Woods.

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**I don't know any of the names of Zack's family or how many of them there are or... anything really, so forgive me if I am off on some of the details here. **


	13. The Interrogation

**Hello, readers! Okay, so I think we're nearing the end here. I just wanted to thank everyone for their reviews and would also like to encourage suggestions, critiques and anything else you might have for me. :) Also, tell me what you thought of the chapter in a review! Pretty please!  


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I stared at Curt Woods through the two-way window as he looked down at the table, arms folded across his chest. He had been waiting in there for about an hour now and I had been watching him the whole time. I had wanted to go right in and start asking questions as soon as we'd brought him back to the building, but Booth had wanted him to stew for a little bit; make him nervous. So, as much as I hated it, I waited until at last Booth showed up with Sweets.

"What exactly am I doing here again?" Sweets asked, looking between me and Booth confusedly.

"Do your psycho-stuff. I want to know how to get to this guy, when he's lying, the whole nine yards," Booth said.

"Um... I'll do my best," Sweets said.

"Great," Booth said, putting in an earpiece and patting Sweets on the back. "Come on, Bones. It's time," he said.

I nodded and followed my partner into the interrogation room.

Curt Woods looked up at us as we came in and scowled slightly. "I've been waiting in here for like four hours!" he grumbled. "Don't I at least get a water or somethin'?"

"We'll get you some water, Mr. Woods... if that _is_ your real name," Booth said as he sat down on one of the chairs across from him. I took the seat next to him.

"Of course it's my real name," Curt said defensively.

I suddenly heard Sweets voice in my earpiece, "_He's in a defensive posture and looked away when he said that... indicating that he's lying."_

"That's funny, because when we took your thumbprints we came up with the name of Anthony Steward. You got a long lost twin, Curt?" Booth asked sarcastically.

Curt didn't say anything, but stared at Booth with a defiant look on his face.

"Looks like Anthony's got quite a background, too. Burglary, breaking and entering, assault, countless DWI's and lots and lots of jail time," Booth said, reading out of the folder he had brought in with him. "What's even more interesting is that Curt Woods shows up in the neighborhood a _week_ after Anthony Steward goes missing. Know anything about that... _Mr. Woods_?" Booth asked mockingly.

"I want a lawyer," Curt (or Anthony) said, turning his head.

Booth stared at him for a long time.

"_Booth, try-"_

At last I couldn't take it anymore. I stood abruptly, slamming my hands on the table so hard that it made Curt/Anthony jump in surprise.

"WHERE'S ZACK?" I yelled, surprised at the anger in my own voice.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" he yelled back strongly, and even though I was never any good at psychology, I could see in his eyes that he was scared... and lying.

"Where is he?" I screamed again, feeling Booth's arms grab my shoulders and start leading me out of the room. I could vaguely hear him saying my name over the pumping of my own heart. I didn't really care what he was saying. I was completely and solely focused on the man across the table; the man who might know where Zack was.

Finally, Booth managed to get me out of the room, closing the door behind him. I hit his chest, trying desperately to get back in there and find out where Zack was. I'd failed him once; I wasn't going to let that happen again.

"Bones!" Booth said, grabbing my wrists and looking me in the eyes. "Bones! It's okay!"

"He might know where he is! We're running out of time, Booth! He said so!"

"What are you talking about? Who said we're running out of time? Temperance, we're going to find him, okay? I promise."

Tears started to fall from my cheeks and I broke down into sobs. "You can't promise that. You don't know that!"

Booth stared at me for a second, looking at the tears on my cheeks.

"I can't lose him again, Booth..." I sobbed. "I just can't."

Booth looked down at the floor and then at the door. After a moment, he looked back at me again resolutely. "Listen to me, Bones... can you do something for me?"

I looked up at him, trying to gain control of myself.

"I need you to turn off the recorder in the observation room and make sure no one comes into this room. Can you do that for me?"

I stared at him for a second uncertainly, but then nodded.

"Yeah? Okay. Go." He gently nudged me to the observation room and with a last glance at him I went in and was immediately greeted by a wide-eyed Sweets.

"What the heck happened in there?" he asked in bewilderment. I ignored him, instead pressing buttons until I found the one that turned off both the camera and the recorder.

He watched me for a moment, frozen in place by his confusion. "What are you doing?"

Once again ignoring him, I went back out to find that Booth had already re-entered the room. I hurried to the door and stood guard as my partner approached the man in the interrogation room.

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Booth walked into the room, closed the door and then grabbed one of the chairs and rammed it up against the door handle.

Curt/Anthony looked at Booth nervously. "Wh-what are you doing?" he asked.

Booth took in a deep, uncertain breath. He knew what he was about to do could get him fired, but all he could think about was Bones. Finally, after finally making up his mind, he walked across the room, grabbed Curt/Anthony just between the shoulder and neck and squeezed.

The man cried out in surprise and pain and looked up at Booth with terror-filled eyes.

"Now you listen to me," Booth began coldly, "You saw my partner... the girl that was just in here; her friend has been kidnapped and I am going to do _whatever_ I have to do to get her friend back, am I clear?"

Curt/Anthony nodded nervously.

"Good. Then you're going to tell me everything I want to know right now."

_"Booth? Booth! What's going on? What are you doing?" _Sweets asked in the earpiece. Booth ignored him.

"Anthony's your real name, right?"

He nodded.

"Okay, Anthony... what do you know about Gormogon?"

Anthony glanced up at him nervously before quickly looking back down at the table again and shaking his head. "You can't treat me this way. I'm an American citizen! I have rights and this is police brutality!"

_"Booth, he hesitated... And he's changing the subject. He knows who you're talking about,"_ Sweets said.

Booth slammed Anthony against the table, pinching even harder.

Over the earpiece he could hear Sweets take in a breath. _"Oh!"_

"What do you know about him?" Booth asked again.

"Okay! Okay! Just stop!" Anthony shouted, trying to remove Booth's iron grip from his shoulder. "I met the guy a year ago. Why? What's it matter?"

"Were you blackmailing Zack Addy for Gormogon?" Booth asked.

"I don't know what-"

Booth tightened his grip on his neck, ready to smash his face down again, but Anthony quickly held up his hands in surrender, yelling, and "Okay! Okay! I'll tell you what you want!"

"Then you answer my question," Booth said dangerously.

_"Booth, there are some other agents coming... what do I do? What do I do? Booth?" _Suddenly there was pounding on the door. He could hear Bones and others yelling at each other and knew he was running out of time. He looked at Anthony again. "Make it quick."

"Okay! Okay... look I wanted to be Gormogon's apprentice but he said I had to do something for him first. The feds and the Jeffersonian were catching up with him and he knew it, so he had to take a guy from the inside. He tried making your Zack Addy guy his apprentice, but that didn't fly, so he had me go down to his family and take some pictures. I sent them to the guy and threatened to kill 'em if he didn't do what Gormogon said."

"Why are you still blackmailing him?" Booth asked.

"When Gormogon died I knew if I didn't keep that guy quiet _I'd_ be the one locked up. It was easy to pin everything on him... so I did."

"Where is he?"

"I... I don't know."

_"Booth, I think he's telling the truth."_

"You don't know _anything_ about his disappearance?" Booth asked.

"No! No, nothing! I swear!"

Booth stared him down for a moment, and then finally released him. Anthony took in a long, nervous breath, glancing up fearfully at Booth every few seconds.

Booth walked over to the door, removed the chair and let in the other agents.

* * *

When Booth finally opened the door, I peeked inside to see Anthony sitting at the table holding his shoulder with a pained expression on his face. One agent went inside to check on Anthony Steward, another went into the observation room and the last went up to Booth and started asking questions.

"What the hell happened here?" the agent asked.

"What do you mean?" Booth asked.

"I heard some commotion. Came in here to see what it was but Dr. Brennan here wouldn't let me in."

"I was in the middle of an interrogation," Booth explained simply.

"Then what was all that noise?" the agent asked suspiciously.

"The suspect was throwing a bit of a fit."

Suddenly the agent that had gone into the observation room came back and looked at the other agent. "Sir, the camera and recorder are turned off."

"What's the meaning of this, Agent Booth?" the other agent asked angrily.

"Um... sir?"

All three agents turned to looked at Sweets, who stood awkwardly in the observation room's doorway. He glanced at each agent and swallowed.

"Um... I think I may have... accidentally... pressed a few buttons..."

"Who are you?" one of the agents asked.

"Dr. Sweets. I'm a psychiatrist. I'm helping Agent Booth and Dr. Brennan with their current case."

"Alright, Doctor. Would you mind telling me what the hell just happened?"

Sweets hesitated, looking between me and Booth helplessly for a moment, before finally taking in a breath. "As Agent Booth conducted the interrogation the suspect lunged at him. Agent Booth was able to subdue him, however."

"Then why was this doctor over here keeping me out?" the agent asked.

"This is a _very_ sensitive case, Agent. Agent Booth needed time to build up a trust with the suspect."

Both Booth and I stared at Sweets in surprise, neither of us believing what had just happened. He had lied for us. _Lied!_ He could lose his job over something like this, but Sweets remained surprisingly calm and collected as he stared the other agent down, daring him to question his story. Really, it was our word against Anthony Steward's at this point.

The agent looked at the each of us carefully, and then pointed a finger at Sweets. "No more touching buttons, doctor. Or you'll have to have an escort in this building. And Agent Booth, there had better be a _very_ detailed report of everything that happened in there. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Booth said.

The agent nodded, looked at each of us with a look of warning and then turned and left, the other agents following behind him.

Booth sighed. "This is going to be investigated."

"Why did you do that?" I asked suddenly, looking at Booth and Sweets.

"You're..." Sweets hesitated, then, "You're my friends."

Booth smiled. "Thanks, Sweets. We owe you."

"Big time," Sweets said with a smile.

"Why did you do it, Booth?"

Booth looked down at me for a moment thoughtfully and then shrugged a little. "I... kinda miss Zack. I'll admit it. That's all."

I nodded. "Well... thank you. So what did he tell you?"

"I'll tell you on the way to the lab," Booth said, placing his arm on my back and leading me down the hall.

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**Click the review button! Click it! You know you want to! :P **


	14. One Thing Left

**Hello, peoples! Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I really have no excuse other than I could not motivate myself to write. Anyway, I've added some appearances from characters I have slightly neglected; such as Saroyan and Wendell. Enjoy! :D

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I sighed as Booth and I entered the Jeffersonian. He had already relayed everything Anthony knew about Zack's disappearance, which left me frustrated. He had been our top lead, and it turned out that he didn't know anything. Still, I began to see a pattern to the clues Bishop was leaving me.

"What do we do now?" I asked Booth.

"Right now I'm having agents check out the Gormogon websites. See if they find anything suspicious."

"Alright. Can you do something else for me?"

He turned to me and nodded, putting his hands inside his pants pockets. "Sure, what is it?"

"Can you gather up all of the evidence we've collected for the past few days?"

Booth gave me an enquiring look.

"There should be enough to build a case for Zack's innocence. I'm going to go through all of the new evidence and cross-check it with the old Gormogon cases."

Booth nodded gently. "Yeah, I can get that for you."

"Thank you," I said.

He smiled, nodded and then walked out of the building. Not a second after he'd left, Angela appeared seemingly out of nowhere and walked up close to me so that she could whisper.

"Hey, I just found a message. I think it's from Bishop," she muttered under her breath to me as she held out a yellow envelope.

I stared at it and then looked up at her. "Where'd you get this? When did it come?"

"I don't know. I found it on your desk," Angela replied.

"He was _in_ the Jeffersonian?" I asked incredulously. "Nobody noticed?"

"I've already checked surveillance. The feed just died for thirty seconds and then came back on again."

With a sigh, I opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of paper and then I handed the envelope back to Angela. "See if Hodgins can get anything off of this."

Angela nodded and hurried off to find Hodgins.

After she'd gone, I unfolded the paper in my hand and read the letter inside.

_Dear Dr. Temperance Brennan,_

_You have what you need. Only one thing left. If I were you, I would revisit Gormogon's second house. Particularly near the garden with the tulips._

_Best of luck._

It wasn't signed, but it didn't really need to be. I examined the page carefully, noting the kind of paper that was used (which was regular printing paper that could be found anywhere) and the message itself, which was written on a computer with what looked like regular household ink. I was positive that when I got this message fully checked, there would be nothing to lead me to Bishop.

Now that my initial inspection was done, I began to consider the actual message. Only one thing left? What did that mean?

"What is that?"

I jumped in surprise at the sound of the close, familiar voice behind my right shoulder and whirled around to find Dr. Saroyan. I stuttered silently for a moment, trying to think quickly. Did she read it? What did she see? What did she think it was?

"It's nothing," I said finally. "Just a personal message."

"Seems cryptic for a personal message," she stated and I could tell she was suspicious, but otherwise clueless. "Who is it from?"

"A... friend."

"You don't have friends."

"An _old_ friend."

"Does this old friend have a name?"

"That's none of your business," I interjected indignantly.

"It is if it has something to do with the Gormogon case."

"What makes you think it does?"

Saroyan didn't say anything for a moment, but eyed me in a way that made me uncharacteristically uncomfortable. I surmised my nervousness was due to the (as Sweets would call it) emotional stress of the day.

Finally she spoke. "What's going on, Dr. Brennan?"

I gave her what I thought was a convincing look of confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I've noticed the messages and I know about the bones that were recently stolen and then returned. I also know that the canines were replaced. When something is happening to _my_ people, I want to know about it."

I stared at her unbreakably and replied as coolly as possible, "Nothing is going on, Dr. Saroyan. Now, I'd like to get back to work."

Saroyan stared at me for a moment more, but then seemed to concede and, with a sad smile, walked off to continue her own work. Once she'd gone, I went off down the halls of the Jeffersonian until I had found who I was looking for.

Wendell stood hovering over a table that held a full neatly placed skeleton, observing it closely.

"Wendell," I said.

He looked up and locked eyes with me. "Yes, Dr. Brennan?"

"I need you. Come on," I said as I began to walk away.

He stood for a moment in confusion before quickly taking off his gloves, tossing them on the examining table and following after me. "Where are we going?" H e called from behind me.

"Gormogon's," I said matter-of-factly.

He ran to come up beside me. "Why?"

"I think we missed something the first time. I want you to help me look."

Wendell's brows furrowed. "Why me? If you don't mind me asking."

I looked at him and smiled. "You've got a good eye, everybody else is doing something, and..." I took a breath before continuing. "I... don't want to go alone."

Wendell looked at me and nodded understandingly.

We drove in silence to Gormogon's second house, which was fine with me, since it gave me time to process my thoughts. I was thinking about Zack, but more so I was thinking about Bishop. Where did he fit in to all of this? He wasn't the kidnapper, but he wasn't on our side either. He hadn't led me to Zack, but more to clues involving the case of Gormogon that I had somehow missed the first time. Why would he do that? Why would he be working so hard to correct an error that had nothing to do with him?

Our apparent past connection was also troubling. I had worked the case of his mother's and father's deaths, but this didn't seem to concern or even interest him, but I had a feeling that our mutual connection was important somehow; I just didn't know how exactly. I wished I could have Booth's help. He was better at this sort of thing than I was. He always seemed to know what to do.

"Dr. Brennan... you just passed it," Wendell said softly.

I broke from my reverie to find that he was right and I had accidentally driven past the street. I made the first turn I found and drove back to the street, parking up against the curb.

Wendell and I got out of the car and stared at the house for a moment, although Wendell mostly watched me, almost as if he were waiting for some sort of reaction from me.

"Are you okay?" he finally asked with concern.

I looked at him and nodded. "Yes. I'm fine." I looked around for a moment and spotted a garden with tulips that sat just underneath a windowsill. "Why don't you start on the other side? We'll work our way around to the left."

He nodded and then went off to the back. When he was out of sight, I walked over to the little garden and started looking carefully through the turnips. At first, I saw nothing, so I put on a pair of gloves and began to shift the dirt. It was then that I saw a part of what looked to be a shoeprint that had pressed down the dirt. As I examined this more closely, I noticed a small piece of what looked like fabric protruding from the ground. Carefully, I dug it out. It was a white fabric, though dulled due to its time in the dirt, but had been folded tightly and neatly. I slowly unfolded it to find that it had been stained... with blood.

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**Comment, please! It really motivates me to write more. I also would like to thank everyone for the comments that prompted me to update this chapter.  
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	15. Bone Structure

**Hello everyone. Sorry I haven't updated in so long. And sorry again for the short chapter, but I just wanted to update and let you guys know I'm still here and I'm reading your reviews, which I appreciate tremendously. They really help me through writers block, so please give more so I can get encouraged to write more. :)

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"The bloodwork just came through," Booth said, throwing a file onto my desk where I sat. Wendell and I had returned to the Jeffersonian as soon as I had found the bloodied cloth and had immediately set to work figuring out to whom the blood belonged.

I quickly picked it up and went through it. "Dean Morgan..." I read the name aloud. "Do you have anything on him?"

Booth smiled. "Yeah. He's a Gormogon fan. Actually created several of the sites."

"Do we know where he lives?" I asked, barely able to contain my excitement and hope.

"He lives downtown in an apartment, but the owner says he hasn't been there for weeks." Booth paused and looked at me with interest. "Where did you get that, by the way?"

"I went back to that house. I needed to make sure I didn't miss anything... Turns out I did. I found it in the garden. It looks like a piece of a shirt."

Booth nodded in agreement. "Bones... I think this is the guy we're looking for. Right now I've got his face out with the local police and I'm going over his credit cards, seeing if he rented a place. We're also checking his phone records to see if he called anyone else from the Gormogon club."

"So... now we wait?" I asked.

Booth nodded. "Basically."

I rested my elbows on the desk and put my hands over my face. I felt so tired. I had barely slept since the phone call informing me that Zack had been taken and had eaten even less. I just wanted this to be over. I wanted Zack back, safe and sound and I wanted to help Booth put the kidnapper behind bars, like we always did.

Booth was watching me as I sat with a concerned frown. "Bones..." he said tentatively.

I looked up at him.

"We're going to find him," he assured.

"You keep saying that," I said, my voice breaking slightly, "But you _don't_ know. There's no way to know for sure. We don't even know if he's still alive."

"Don't say that," Booth said, walking over to me and looking me in the eyes. "Don't. He's alive, okay? And we're going to find him."

I fought tears, not wanting to cry in front of him. I just stared at him, observing his attractive features. He had a wonderful bone structure.

Suddenly, I heard a phone chime. Booth dug into his pockets and pulled out his cell phone. "This is Booth," he said and then paused as he listened to the voice on the other end. His eyes widened a little bit and he looked at me. "Okay. Thanks." He hung up. "We've found him."


	16. 6 Hours

**Sorry how long it took to upload this chapter. I have been so busy with work and school and some pressing family matters. But, as a token to show how sorry I am for the lateness of this chapter, I stayed up 2 hours more than I should have to write it. I'm waking up really early, but I wanted to make sure you guys got a chapter before I went to bed. Anyways, here you go! **

* * *

Dean Morgan sat in the interrogation room, cuffed hands on his lap. He had a look of boredom, which I couldn't help but feel enraged at. I felt like he should have been afraid, but he seemed completely careless to the situation. I stared at him through the two-way glass, anxiously awaiting the chance to talk to him. It had been my intention to talk to him immediately, but Booth had insisted that we left him in there for a little while to (as he said) "let him sweat". It was torture, knowing that the man across the glass knew where Zack was and I had to wait yet even longer for the information.

Suddenly Booth appeared beside me, crossing his arms as his eyes fell on Dean Morgan as well. "It's time," he said.

My heart quickened a pace. Finally. I was finally going to get my answers. This man _had_ to know where Zack was. He had to.

Booth opened the door and let me in first. We both then took the seats opposite Dean Morgan. Booth leaned back, staring at him with intense eyes. Dean Morgan stared back with the same intensity, unperturbed by his predicament.

"So, Mr. Morgan," Booth began, "Are you familiar with Gormogon?"

I was surprised at how direct Booth was starting the interrogation. There was no beating around the bush, no lead-up questions, which led me to the conclusion that Booth was just as hurried to find Zack as I was. I felt some comfort in that thought, and let him continue.

Morgan just stared at him and I was sure I could see an almost invisible grin on his face. "Who isn't? It's a famous case."

"I ask because we have reason to believe that you are affiliated with a Gormogon fan club."

Morgan chuckled a little. "I wouldn't really call it a fan club."

"Doesn't matter what you call it," Booth said. "It is what it is. Now you_ are_ affiliated with this site, correct?"

Morgan nodded. "I made it myself. It's a good site. It gets _thousands_ of hits every day." He looked at me a grinned.

"Good for you," Booth said sarcastically. "But I'm not interested in your site. What I _am_ interested in is why we found a sample of your blood at a kidnap scene."

"Kidnap?" He asked, obviously feigning a look of confusion. "Kidnap of who?"

"A colleague of mine," Booth stated simply, but I could hear the anger in the words. I could see that he was just as anxious as I was to find Zack, and I couldn't help but feel that with Booth so determined, we would certainly find him.

"And you claim to have found my blood at the scene?"

"On a piece of a t-shirt I assume is yours. Have you been in a fight recently, Mr. Morgan?"

"No."

"Would you consent to an examination?"

"What for?"

"For cuts, scrapes, any wound that might account for the blood."

Dean Morgan stared at Booth and I could see in his eyes that he was about to demand his lawyer be present when my phone suddenly rang. The room seemed to freeze, both Booth and Morgan looking at me.

I was confused at first, certain that I had turned my phone off. I reached into my pocket and retrieved my phone, but it wasn't ringing. The sound was coming from elsewhere... my other pocket. I froze for a moment, wondering why on earth I had a _second _phone in my pocket, but it didn't take long for me to figure out who had put it there. I looked up at Booth. "Excuse me. I have to take this."

"But-" Booth began, a bewildered look on his face, but I was up and out of the room before he could get out a sentence. I quickly shut the door behind me, followed the hall until I came to the women's room, checked the stalls to make sure no one was there and then answered. "Hello?"

"You're out of time," Bishop said. "They're going to kill him tonight. I can't stop them."

I felt my heart stop at the words. "You can't stall?" I asked, feeling the hope that had been building inside me suddenly dwindle almost to nothing.

"They're not listening to me anymore, Temperance. You need to hurry. You have 6 hours to find him. Any later will be too late."

"Booth and I are interrogating one of his kidnappers but... I don't think we're going to get anything out of him."

There was a pause on the other end and I waiting anxiously for him to speak. Finally, "Temperance... Zack needs you now. I know you can get this man to tell you what you want. You've gotten countless confessions in the past; now do it again."

Before I could say a word, I heard him hang up and I suddenly felt so alone. I took a deep breath, trying to get a hold of myself. When I felt once again collected, I went to the break room, grabbed a cup of coffee and then headed back into the interrogation room.

I could see that something important had been said, because they both were glaring at each other in silence. I took my seat quietly, putting the cup of coffee down on the table, and then leaned forward towards Morgan.

Booth watched me, waiting to see what I would do.

"When is my lawyer going to get here? I told the agent I'm not talking without my lawyer," Morgan suddenly grumbled.

"You don't need to say anything, Mr. Morgan," I said. "We're just waiting for your lawyer to get here."

Morgan nodded, staring at me with that same look of wicked mischievousness.

"Here," I said, pushing the coffee towards him to the center of the table. "You're probably thirsty."

"It's like you read my mind. You're very smart for someone so pretty," he said, grinning again.

"Yes, I am," I said factually. "Although appearance has nothing to do with your intelligence."

Morgan chuckled a little for some reason and then reached out for the coffee.

That's was all I needed to see it. He was being particularly careful not to move his left arm.

When he had grabbed the coffee and settled back into his seat, I stood up and slowly started to walk around the watched me as I did so, but did not interfere.

He took a sip, saw me move, and then eyed me. "What are you doing?" he asked, smiling.

"Oh, I'm going to examine the injury on your arm," I said as I came beside him, and before he had time to say anything or react, I grabbed his arm and pulled up the sleeve, revealing a blood-stained bandage on his forearm.

"When'd you get this, Mr. Morgan?" I asked.

His eyes went wide in panic and he quickly pulled away from my grip and attempted to cover the wound. "What? I cut myself while remodeling my house."

"You live in an apartment," I stated, having read through his file thoroughly.

"So I remodeled my apartment," he said, looking up at me coldly.

"What did you remodel?" Booth asked.

"A door."

Booth's brow raised in humor. "A door? How, exactly, did you get that cut, Mr. Morgan?"

Dean Morgan glanced between the two of us silently.

"Did you hit your head, too, Mr. Morgan?" Booth asked. "Come on, its a simple question. How'd you cut your arm?"

"I dropped my hammer..."

"That doesn't make sense. You're right-handed and your cut is on your right arm. If you dropped your hammer on your arm, you would have gotten a bruise, or a small cut. Not a cut large enough to bleed as much as you're wound is," I said.

Booth smiled and pointed at me. "Very true. Now, let me tell you what _I _think happened. You're trying to move Zack Addy to another location and he fights back. He's got some sort of weapon on him-"

"I believe he most likely used glass. There was a shattered window in the basement where you were keeping him," I added to Morgan. I could see his jaw tighten. He was getting angry.

"Alright, he attacked you with a shard of glass. He cut your arm, tore up your shirt and then buried it for us to find. You must feel pretty stupid, letting a scrawny little squint get the edge on you like that."

"People do underestimate Zack's strength due to his appearance," I said.

"Now thanks to what Zack left behind, we're going to get a warrant to search your person, your apartment your car... I'm going to tear you're world upside down," Booth said."To think if Zack hadn't of bested you we wouldn't have-"

"He didn't _best_ me," Morgan hissed through gritted teeth.

Booth and I glanced at each other and smiled.

Morgan, looking between us, suddenly realized what he had done. His jaw dropped in defeat. "Fuck."

"Make this easier on yourself, Mr. Morgan," Booth said. "Tell us where Zack is and I might be able to cut you a deal."

Morgan looked at Booth, closed his mouth and then suddenly started to laugh. "I'm not telling you shit. He's as good as dead in a couple of hours."

I looked at Booth to get his reaction. He looked angry... no more than angry. In fact, I had never seen that look on his face before. It wasn't just anger: it was pure fury.

"Booth..." I said, hoping to calm him down.

"You'd better pray nothing happens to that squint," Booth said, leaning forward with his hands on the table to support him. "If they touch a hair on his head, _you're_ the one that's going to pay. Now you're going to tell me _exactly_ where they have him and where they'll take him next or so help me I'm going to make sure you're stay in prison can only be matched by hell."

Morgan smiled. "Doesn't matter. Gormogon will be avenged tonight. Who knows, maybe after they've done away with Addy, they'll go after Gormogon's killer," he said, glaring at Booth.

Suddenly my hands tightened into fists and a swell of anger overcame me. Without even realizing what I was doing, I grabbed Dean Morgan's injured arm and pulled it back. Morgan's eyes widened and his mouth opened in a silent scream. "What the..." he began, but was cut short by me pulling on his arm.

"You tell me where Zack is right now or I'll break it!" I seethed.

"What're you crazy?"

"Bones!" Booth said. He quickly ran to me and tried to remove my grip from Morgan's arm, but that only made me pull harder.

"Alright! ALRIGHT! I'll tell you where he is... but I want that deal you offered, agent," he said, looking at Booth through pain-squinted eyes.

Immediately I let go, breathing heavily.

Booth grabbed my shoulders and locked eyes with me, his face lined with concern. "You know..." he said, panting as well from the stress of the situation. "We really need to stop beating up everybody who walks through that door."

I looked at him, eyes lined with tears. "I'm sorry... I just... I need Zack back. Safe."

Booth looked at me and then down at Morgan, who was cradling his arm and mumbled curse words to himself. "Looks like we will, Bones."

* * *

**P.S. Sorry there have not been many appearances of any other characters. I just haven't found a way to fit them in much in this fic. I will try to give them more scenes in the coming chapters. :) **

**PLEASE REVIEW! It really helps to inspire me and get me writing! The more reviews I get, the faster I get to writing the next chaoter!**

**I would particularly like to give a shoutout to LoveAndSerenity, who really got me working on the next chapter. You're review was very much appreciated! And thank you everyone for all of the kind reviews! Critiques and even requests are welcome. :)**


	17. I Found You

**Now, I don't know the exact protocol for a situation like the one I am writing about in this chapter, so I did the best that I could with the meager knowledge that I have of the FBI, kidnap situations and SWAT, so please go with me on this. :) **

* * *

After my initial outburst, Dean Morgan began to spill information like his life depended on it. He told Booth how they had kidnapped Zack, the various places they had held him, and finally his current location. Dean Morgan said he was in the basement of one of the Gormogon fan club members' house. I could hardly contain my excitement at having finally found out where Zack was. I couldn't get into the passenger side of Booth's car fast enough as he headed over to address Dean Morgan had given us, followed closely by a SWAT van.

I had my hands in my lap, fussing with the end of my shirt anxiously as I stared out the window. Booth had put on his siren and was speeding down a fairly nice neighborhood street. I glanced over at him, and although I had _never_ been good at psychology... or even noticing the feelings and opinions of others, I could see on Booth's face that he was just as anxious to find Zack as I was. He had shown that he was determined to find him and each time I saw that expression on his face, I couldn't help but feel sure that everything would be alright. Logically, I knew that something _could_ go wrong, but knowing that Booth cared as much as I did about Zack, and that he was willing to do _anything_ to find him, made me disregard that logical part of me.

Booth saw me staring at him. "Don't worry, Bones. We're almost there. Just a few more streets."

"I know," I said, looking out of the window again.

When we at last pulled up on the other side of the street from the house Dean Morgan had directed us to, Booth pulled out his gun and we stepped out of the car. The team of SWAT members, jumped out of their van and Booth and I ran over to talk with them and get our bulletproof vests.

"Stay behind us, Bones," Booth warned and I nodded. I was actually surprised that Booth was allowing me to go with them, but I guessed that he knew I would with or without his permission and it was better if I came with permission and safe than without and not.

Booth and the SWAT team paused at the door and then suddenly one of them kicked it in. They quickly piled inside, Booth following behind the leader. I came in after they had cleared the room, sticking close to Booth.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

The SWAT team had almost cleared the entire first story when someone appeared at the staircase, gun in hand. Shots rang out immediately from the SWAT teams' guns and the men dropped dead on the stairs. Two of them ran up to the second story, stepping casually over the body. There were several more shouts and gunfire before, after several shouts of "Clear!" they came back down.

"Second story is secure," one of the men said to Booth.

Booth nodded and then looked at a door nestled underneath the stairs. "This is probably the basement," he said.

The SWAT members gathered round it, and then opened it, quickly piling inside. I got ready to follow in after them, only to be stopped when they started backing up out of the room.

Booth and I watched them in confusion, until two men came out of the basement. One was held in front of the other, a bag over his head and his hands tied behind his back as the other held a gun to his head, using the hostage as a shield.

"BACK OFF!" the man yelled, pressing the gun harder into the temple of whom I could only assume was Zack.

"ZACK!" I yelled in fear. I started moving forward, to get to him, but Booth quickly pulled me back and away.

"No, Bones," he whispered. "Hold on. Wait."

I felt tears well at my eyes as the man kept inching forward, watching the SWAT team members warily. "Everybody just get the fuck back!" he yelled agitatedly.

"We're getting back," Booth said gently, trying to defuse the situation. "Let the kid go. Come on, no one needs to get hurt."

"Shut up," the man said, moving the gun from Zack's temple to underneath his jaw. He pressed harder, inducing a quiet moan from Zack.

"Don't. You. Touch. Him," I said, emphasizing each word furiously.

"All of you, get over there, or I shoot him," the man said, ignoring my warning.

"You shoot him, we'll be forced to shoot you," Booth said.

"Yeah, but he'll still be dead. Now get over there," the man said again. He tightened his hold on Zack and started inching forward as, slowly, we all complied, moving over to one of the walls. The SWAT team's guns were still trained on the man, but with Zack in the way, it was impossible for them to get in a good shot.

The man walked backwards towards the open front door, watching all of us with a crazed look in his eye. Once he was at the threshold, he stopped. "Now, if any of you try to fol-" He didn't get to finish, interrupted abruptly by a whoosh and a squishy sound. He stood there for a moment with a blank expression on his face before at last falling to the ground dead, blood pouring from the bullet hole in the back of his head.

Having suddenly been released, Zack fell to the floor in a heap. Booth immediately went over to him and pulled him away from the open window, all the while talking on his radio; "Agent Seeley Booth requesting backup," he said and then began to relate the address.

I, however, was uninterested in anything he was saying. I knelt beside Zack and threw the bag off of his head. His small eyes met mine and suddenly I couldn't keep in all of the emotions I had been trying to keep inside. Tears fell from my cheeks as I wrapped him in a hug.

"I found you," I whispered joyfully. "You're safe... I found you."

Zack swallowed and when I pulled away I could see tears on his eyes. I looked him over a moment, but could find no major injuries, save a few bruises and a cut on his arm.

"Dr. Brennan... I didn't... I thought... I thought you wouldn't come for me," he said, head hanging low in shame. Tears of sorrow began to intermingle with the tears of joy.

"Of course I came for you. Why wouldn't I?" I said, working to get the duct tape off of his wrists.

"I betrayed you... I betrayed all of you."

"No, no, Zack. We know. We know you were innocent. That you were being blackmailed. I know you didn't kill anyone," I said, finally getting the tape off.

Zack rubbed his raw wrists and looked at me through bleary eyes. "You... you do? How?"

"It's a long story," I said, smiling at him. "I missed you."

Zack's eyes seemed to glimmer at my words, his face lighting up and he smiled back. "I missed you, too."

* * *

I hardly noticed the agitated way the SWAT team looked around as Zack was taken to the ambulance to be checked. All I could think about was not letting him out of my sight. He smiled at me as I hopped into the ambulance with him.

Booth came up to the car before the doors closed and smiled brightly at Zack. "Hey, look who it is. You had us all worried," he said jovially.

"My apologies. I didn't mean to alarm anyone," Zack said seriously.

Booth stared at him for a moment and then smiled even bigger. "Yep. That's the squint I know."

Zack smiled.

"Oh, Booth, call the Jeffersonian and let everyone know we found him. I'm going with Zack to the hospital. They can meet us there," I said before he could shut the doors.

Booth nodded in acknowledgement.

"Oh, and Booth! Did you find out where the shot came from?"

Booth frowned. "No. The shooter just vanished, but for now we're going to keep Zack in protective custody."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I don't know who the shooter was after. He may have been trying to shoot Zack and missed. I don't know, but until I get some answers, we're playing it safe."

"But... everyone can still see him, right?" I asked.

"Yeah," Booth said, smiling. "Don't worry," he looked at Zack and smiled. "We're not letting you out of our sight again."

"Thank you, Booth," Zack said sincerely. "And thank you for finding me."

"Hey, if you hadn't have left that blood for us to find, we wouldn't have found you at all," Booth said.

Zack gave a puzzled look. "What blood? I didn't leave any blood."

Booth stared at him for a moment confusedly. "What? You know, the little... that had _you_ written all over it."

"I wasn't leaving any clues. I thought... I didn't think you were looking for me... after what I'd done."

"If that wasn't you... than who was it?" Booth asked.

I just stood there. I could have said something. I _should_ have said something, but I didn't. I could have told Booth all about Bishop. After all, he didn't have anything over me anymore. Zack was back and safe, but I still I didn't say a word as Booth mumbled to himself in bewilderment.

"This just keeps getting weirder," he said before at last shutting the doors, giving it a hit to let the driver know we were ready.

As the ambulance headed off to the hospital, I knelt down beside Zack and smiled at him, stroking his hair comfortingly.

* * *

**Okay, I have one more chapter to post! Please please review and tell me what you thought of the chapter because this was the HARDEST one to write! I tried to make it as realistic as far as SWAT and stuff goes, but I probably had some stuff wrong. Anyway, please please PLEASE review! It gets my creative juices flowing and inspires me to write! :D**


	18. For You

**I realized that I didn't have many of the other Bones characters in this story and I apologize for that. I really wanted to focus more on Brennan for this particular story, but this chapter will have EVERYBODY. :D**

It couldn't have been more than 20 minutes before everyone started showing up at the hospital to see Zack. Hodgins and Angela were the first. Hodgins could barely contain himself. He had practically run into the room. When he saw Zack laying in the hospital bed, his face lit up brighter than I had seen in a long same could not be said for Zack. Instead of being happy as I thought he would, he instead looked nervous.

"Hodgins..." he said, only just glancing up at him, like he was afraid to make eye contact with him. He looked at me where I sat on the chair on the other side of his bed. I glanced between him and Hodgins, trying to figure out what was wrong.

A bright smile crossed over Hodgins' face. He quickly crossed the room, followed by a beaming Angela, and stood next to the bed. "Zack, how are you feeling?" he asked. He seemed unsure of himself, like he didn't know whether to hug him or not.

"Alright," Zack said, still avoiding his eyes.

Hodgins noticed. "What's wrong?"

Zack didn't say anything, but his face scrunched together like he was in pain.

Hodgins knelt down by the bed and tried to look his friend in the eyes. "Zack... if you think I'm mad at you... I'm not. Dr. Brennan told us everything. I know."

Zack hesitantly looked him in the eyes, his own gleaming slightly from tears he was trying to fight away. "I... I'm _so_ sorry. I'm so sorry, Hodgins. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Hodgins shook his head. "No. It wasn't your fault, Zack. It wasn't."

"But I betrayed you," Zack said.

"No, you didn't. You did what you had to to save your family. Hey, I get that," Zack said. He put a hand on Zack shoulder. He smiled. "I'm just _so_ glad to have you back."

Zack searched his face and when he saw sincerity, he smiled. "I'm glad to be back."

Hodgins finally embraced the younger man in a hug, patting him on the back. When he pulled away, I was certain I saw tears rimming his eyes.

Angela, who had been quiet, allowing Zack and Hodgins the moment they needed, finally went over to the bed and gave Zack a hug as well. "We all missed you so much."

"I missed you, too," Zack said, smiling at them both.

After a while, Dr. Saroyan, Sweets, and Wendell all entered the room. Sweets gave Zack a warm handshake, welcoming him back and assuring him that the charges against would be dropped. Dr. Saroyan placed a hand on his shoulder and told him that his old job was his if he wanted it. Wendell gave Zack a handshake, welcoming him back. This having been the first time the two had met, they spent a few moments getting to know each other and, to everyone's surprise, seemed to get along well.

"Where is Agent Booth?" Wendell asked me.

"He's still looking for the shooter," I answered.

"Who do you think it was?" Hodgins mused.

I shrugged, although I had a strong feeling I _did_ in fact know who it had been.

Angela looked at me and I could tell she was thinking the same thing. As discreetly as she could, she came to my side and leaned in close so that no one could hear. "Do you think it was him?"

I nodded. "Yes, I do."

"Did you tell Booth?"

"Um... no."

"No?" Angela asked, surprised. "Why not? We have Zack back. Why haven't you told him so he can catch him?"

I hesitated. I had been asking myself that for the past several hours after having found Zack. Why hadn't I told him? There was certainly nothing holding me back now. Finally, I shrugged helplessly. "I don't know... I just can't."

"Why?"

"Because... because I couldn't do it in good conscience."

"What do you mean?"

I paused, trying to gather my thoughts. "I... I don't know."

"Brennan... you have to tell him," Angela said severely. "He threatened me, you, Hodgins, he pushed me down a flight of stairs, he threatened you with your _own_ gun."

"If it hadn't have been for him, we never would have gotten Zack back," I said. "All of the evidence we have now... we have it because he gave it to us. Zack would _still_ be in the mental hospital, we would all still think he killed the lobbyist and I..." I stopped, the sudden onslaught of emotion making my throat go dry.

Angela stared at me, surprised at all I had said. I knew she didn't agree with my silence, and really, I didn't either, but I couldn't get myself around the idea of telling Booth. Besides, what could Booth do if I _did _tell him? As far as any records showed, Samson Coles was dead. How was Booth supposed to find someone who didn't exist anymore?

"Brennan... if you don't tell him... I will," she said.

I looked at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. I hadn't expected that.

"I'm sorry, but... "

"No, no. You're right," I said. "Don't worry. I'll tell Booth."

Angela nodded and then looked around the room at the smiling faces. They were all laughing at something, and Zack was blushing slightly in embarrassment. She then turned to me. "Let's not worry about that right now. Let's just enjoy this moment."

I looked around, smiled and nodded. Standing, I went over to Zack, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing affectionately. He looked up at me and smiled happily. It filled the emptiness that had been in my heart.

* * *

I had gone to the Royal Diner without really thinking about it. I had taken a seat at the counter and ordered a coffee, only subconsciously aware of what I was doing. All I could really think about was that right now, Zack was safe. Hodgins had volunteered to stay with him overnight, to keep him company. No one seemed to want to leave him alone and I was thankful for it; as long as someone was with him, I couldn't lose him again. It was an illogical thought, I knew, but comforting nonetheless.

I had only been sitting there for ten minutes, and my coffee had only just begun to cool when he appeared beside me. He had a coffee and was sitting like he had been there for hours. I acknowledged his presence only when I was ready, letting him sit there for about three minutes before at last turning to him.

"Did you shoot the man holding Zack?" I asked. I didn't feel like beating around the bush.

He looked at me like he was only noticing me just now. "Why do you keep asking questions that you already know the answer to?"

"Is that a yes?" I pressed.

Bishop took a sip of his coffee and then gestured for the waiter. He then turned to me, gazing at me with an interested expression. "How is he? I hope he isn't too shaken by the whole ordeal."

"He'll be alright," I said, "but you still haven't answered my question."

"Why do you want me to confess so badly? You already know I did, so why would you insist on my saying so?" he asked. The waiter came over, interrupting us momentarily. Bishop paid for both of our drinks and then stood. He gestured for me to follow and without really considering the possible consequences, I stood and followed him out the door into the street. Slowly, we walked side by side down the sidewalk.

"I'm just trying to understand why," I answered.

"Why what?" he asked.

"Why you did all of this. You got Zack kidnapped, planted evidence that proved his innocence, threatened me and my friends, led me to Zack's blackmailer, and then shot the men holding Zack hostage. That's a lot of trouble to go through, especially when you don't gain anything from it."

"But I did gain something from it," he said, stopping beneath a dim street lamp.

I looked at him curiously. "What was that?"

He stared at me for a moment, glanced at the ground and then looked around uncomfortably. "Brennan... I had lost faith in humanity when my parents were killed. I saw the world as a dark, cruel place. It was that view that made me who I am today, but then you came. Out of dozens of cases, you picked my parents. And you didn't just look for their killer... you looked for answers; for the truth. You cared about who they were, what had happened to them, what would be done with them..." He paused, swallowing.

I waited patiently for him to continue, staring at his intense brown eyes, almost entranced by them.

"You caught their killer and put them to rest properly, seeing to it personally. I had had no idea what happened that night until you investigated it. You gave me what no one else could; closure and peace. From that point, I decided that one day, I'd return the favor. So I kept track of you and your coworkers. I made sure to know about everything that happened in the Jeffersonian. When I heard about the Gormogon case and saw how much it was affecting you and your coworkers, I kept an extra eye on everyone. I had assumed Gormogon would figure out you were close to catching him and try to stop you. When Zack said that he was the apprentice, I at first believed him. My original plan was make him look innocent, for your sake. I knew how much he meant to you, but when I did some digging, I found out that he actually _was_ innocent. That made it infinitely easier for me."

"You were going to plant the evidence even if he _wasn't_ innocent?" I asked, interrupting him.

He nodded.

"But-"

"It didn't matter whether he was guilty or not. All I knew was that you needed him like I needed closure. That was good enough for me. His being innocent was just a bonus."

"So all of that... was for me?" I asked.

He nodded. "For you."

I stared at him, feeling a flutter in my stomach. I looked up at him again and noticed that at some point, he had gotten closer to me.

"I'm going to tell Booth," I suddenly blurted out. I wasn't sure what had provoked me to say that, but it was too late now. It was said.

He only nodded. "I know you are," he said, again coming in closer. I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. "And I understand... just don't expect to catch me."

I looked at him and noticed that I had subconsciously begun to move closer.

His eyes locked on mine and the flutter in my stomach increased. Our faces were inches apart.

He stared at me for a moment and then looked down at my lips. Again, he leaned in further until I could feel his lips just barely on mine. Almost like I had lost control of my own body, I tried to press his lips to mine, but with sudden abruptness, he pulled away, looking down at the ground.

"I would love... to kiss you right now," he said, eyes still locked to the ground. "After having watched you for so long... learned everything you like, everything you dislike, your favorite food, your favorite color... I know everything there is to know about you..."

I stared at him, finding myself wishing that he had not pulled away. The flutter was still there, but it had decreased slightly after having been rejected. I couldn't deny that I was attracted to him and I certainly couldn't deny that I _did_ want to kiss him. Was that why I hadn't told Booth about him? I scolded myself. I was smarter than that.

I was interrupted from my inner musings when he continued.

"I know you so well... and for that reason... I can't."

I looked at him longingly. "What do you mean?"

He finally looked up at me again and smiled softly. "Brennan, you may be able to fool yourself, but you can't fool me. I know where your heart lies and as much as I would like it to, it's not with me."

A puzzled expression crossed my face. "My heart doesn't lie with anyone."

He chuckled a little. "Open your eyes, Brennan," he said. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he took my hand and held it. He stared down at our hands, as though trying to relish the moment while it lasted. He looked up at me again and sighed. "I'm afraid this is where I say goodbye."

I felt my heart sink slightly. My mind was a jumbled mess. I shouldn't be feeling this way. He had thrown Angela down a flight of stairs! He had threatened Hodgins, had Zack kidnapped. But then... he had given me Zack back when I had thought he was gone forever. "Goodbye?" I said.

He nodded, letting go of my hand after giving it a gentle squeeze. "I won't be gone completely. If you need me, I'll know... and I'll come."

"Why? You've paid me back," I said.

"Not to pay you back," he said. "Its the only thing I can give you."

I smiled. It was all I could think to do.

Finally, he turned away from me and started walking down the street, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. I watched him until he had completely disappeared from sight. My heart sunk even lower.

* * *

I stood there for a good ten minutes, my mind and emotions all muddled and shaken beyond coherent thought or feeling. I wasn't sure what I should do.

Eventually, my body took over and, after a short, silent drive, I found myself knocking on a familiar door. After the third knock, the door opened.

"Bones, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?" Booth asked.

I nodded. "I just... need to talk to you."

He opened the door wider. "Come on in."

I stepped inside and watched him close the door behind me. He then turned to me, looking with me with concern. "It's not about Zack is it? He's alright?"

"Yes, he's fine. Hodgins is staying with him at the hospital."

Booth nodded and then looked at me expectantly.

I stared at him for a moment, trying to remember why I had come here at all. I knew I still needed to tell him about Bishop, but surely that could have waited until the morning... so why was I here?

"What's the matter, Bones?" Booth asked.

I sighed. "I... I don't know. I'm just feeling... confused."

"Confused?"

I looked at him. "Booth..."

He waited.

I hesitated, trying to think of what to say, but nothing came and finally, I gave a defeated sigh. "I have a few things I want to tell you in the morning."

Booth gazed at me blankly. "Is... that why you're here?"

"No, I came by to let you know that Zack was okay and that... that I'm grateful that you searched so hard for him. I know you don't really like him, so it meant... it meant a lot to me."

Booth smiled a little. "He means a lot to you so he means a lot to me."

I smiled. "Well... I should go. Goodnight, Booth."

"Goodnight, Brennan."

* * *

**The end. **

**Thank you everybody for reading, reviewing and favoriting! All of it was appreciated and I am so glad that you enjoyed it! :D**

**Now for those of you who were hoping for BrennanxBooth fluff, I apologize that I didn't put much in. I didn't want to force it and I felt that it wouldn't really fit into the story right. I'll just leave the BrennanxBooth fluff to the actual Bones writers. I do, though, hope you enjoyed the BrennanxBishop fluff. I had been planning that for a while. I hope it came out as smoothly as I was going for. **

**Again, thanks for reading! :D**


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